


The mobster and the thief

by Cirilla9



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drinking, Drug trafficking, Eventual Smut, Guns, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Party, Russian Mafia, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:11:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 47,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfic about the most interesting character from Finder series for there is not enough appreciation for Mikhail Arbatov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Luc slammed on the gas pedal and the car sped up with a pleasant whirr. The speed pushed his head into the back of the seat. He glanced briefly at the speed meter. 310 km/h. More than twice over permissible speed. He knew he shouldn’t ride so fast. But that knowledge was buried somewhere deep inside, deafened by the music of the working engine. He should gave the car to Matt as soon as possible, get the money and take them to Peter so they could pay off the bullies when they came at the end of the month as usual. They said it was paying for protection but the only danger for their restaurant presented brutes like them.

The youth shook them out of his head. There was still the time before they’ll come and he could as well have fun right now. Not every day could he ride Ferrari 488 GTB. Besides, it was also a good idea in case someone was following him. The owner could report a stolen car to the police already. He glanced in the mirror quickly. Clear. No one was following him. The cops didn’t have fast enough cars anyway. He smirked.

He rushed through the speedway, passing the other cars, slaloming between them. The world passed behind the window in one fuzzy blur, other machines disappearing far back. He rode between two lorries and overtake them in seconds, shouting in joy. He couldn’t remember last time he enjoyed himself so much.

All thoughts about worrying Peter or angry opponents left far behind him.

* * *

 

 

\- Luc! Are you home? – Peter’s voice sounded from the front door as Luc was finishing pushing the bag full of money beneath the loose floor plate under his bed in the back room of the restaurant. God, he’d have to find a better hide. Or steal cheaper stuff.

\- Yeah, ‘m home, - he shouted back, jumping on the bed.

When Peter came into the room, he was reclining onto his bed, a picture of relaxation and laziness.

\- What are you doing? – Peter furrowed his brown gentle brows, created to kind expressions.

\- Nothing.

\-  Yes, I see that. The question is why are you wasting the time when you should be out there behind the counter serving the customers?

\- There isn’t any, - shrugged Luc.

\- That’s because you hung the tablet ‘close’, you moron. Get your ass to work!

Luc grudgingly obeyed him. There weren’t many clients, as always. In fact, only few girls came and they baked them a pizza and served some wine. Later, in the evening Luc persuaded Peter to finish off the bottle themselves. They talked and laughed late into the night.

The next day Peter found the money. They argued, first calmly, with whole coherent sentences full of reason; then it turned to the shouts and uncreative insults. Luc went out before it came to the fist fight, slamming the door behind him.

He walked down the street, kicking some coke can that had laid on the pathway. Why Peter always insisted on being a decent citizen? Being good, honest and kind didn’t pay off. Peter had always been like that, he had worked hard in ‘Mariposa’, never gone against the law and what did he get out of it? Nothing! He kicked the can so hard it bounced on the nearest wall, earning another dent. Once a month, every month those bandits were coming and demanded money. When they weren’t given the claimed praise, they demolished the restaurant. Once they’d beat up Peter. Luc swear to himself he would never let that happen again.

So what if he get the money illegal way? He was stealing but so were the guys that bullied them. He wasn’t terrorizing anyone in the process. His way was subtle, he never once let himself be caught. And what’s the big deal if some rich punk lost a car, he could probably buy another one.

Luc was so packed with anger, so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a black car with darkened windows riding up to him and slowing down to a full stop. When the two man get off, it was too late. He rushed away from them, making a desperate run into the alleyway but he was pulled back by the wrist then a pain exploded in the back of his head and everything went black.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up, he was tied to a chair tightly. His head ache in the place he had been hit. He couldn’t see anything. The panic seized him for a moment. Was he hit so hard he couldn’t see? Only then he realized he had some sack thrown over his head.

He drew up a long breath, trying to calm himself. His heart beat furiously. He didn’t know what was going on but it looked really bad.

He didn’t know where he was. There were voices around him. Someone pulled off the sack. He blinked at the light. It was dim but he was blinded for a moment. The muscled, grim looking man came in focus before his eyes. Before he had an occasion to open his mouth, he was hit across the face. His head knocked off.

\- Wha.. – he rasped, running a tongue over his teeth. They were whole, but he could taste the blood from the split lip.

\- You stole the boss’ car, - the man, built like a bodyguard, said with a strong Russian accent. – Where is it?

Luc gulped, eyes wide.

\- I-I don’t know what are you talking about, - he lied with only a slight wavering at the beginning.

He was hit again. The man’s fist darted so fast he barely registered it. The pain blossomed under his left eye. He jerked his hands within their bounds, trying to cover up his face in an automatic response. The restraints held tight.

He blinked tears of pain out of his eye and saw the man clench his fist again.

\- The car. Where is it? – the man repeated the question.

Luc gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to give up so easily. Whoever they were, he couldn’t lead them to Matt, or worse, to Peter.

\- Fuck you.

The man hit him again. And again. His head rang with the force of the blows. He saw the fist in a leather glove rise to the next strike. It never came.

\- Boris, stop it! – came the voice from behind the bodyguard.

There was some commotion in the room they were in. The man that was beating him stepped aside. The other, who lunged by the wall so far, moved closer to the prisoner. Straight ahead Luc saw the man that spared him next blows. He wore a funny suit, his blond hair was longer than the Bodyguard’s and his face more intelligent. He apparently just came into the room, he handed some papers to one of the man that stood near the door. The others seemed to wait for his orders.

The newcomer came up to Luc and took his chin in his hand, lifting the boy’s head up. Luc saw the clear blue eyes staring at him from the above as the careful fingers touched the sore place under his eye. Luc jerked his head aside, away from the man’s grip.

\- Sorry for my boys, - said the blonde with almost no accent. – They can be rough.

His tone was light as if he was talking about a misbehaving child. Slightly annoying but not posing any real troubles and overall funny. Luc glared at him.

\- It seems you stole my car, - said the man, folding his arms. – I’m quite impressed, I must admit. The alarm was supposed to be unbreakable, so they said in the showroom… - The man’s voice and attitude were far too smug for the situation in Luc’s opinion. - Though, I am also rather annoyed. You see, it’s really in a bad taste when you’re coming out of the restaurant with a lovely girl by your side, a girl which you promised a ride, and your car isn’t there. You’ve ruined my date, Lucas.

Luc’s heart stopped. How had he know what was his name?

\- I don’t have your car anymore, - he blurted out before he could stop himself, too shocked and scared to think.

\- I know, - answered the man, unfolding his arms and putting them into his pockets. The move shifted his jacket, revealing the gun.

Luc’s eyes darted to the weapon. His hair stood on their ends. Were they going to shoot him for one stupid car? Really expensive one, but…

His pulse pounded in his ears, he barely heard the man’s words that were flowing above him.

\- You probably sold it somewhere illegally. Or worse, sold it to pieces. That would be a shame, I really liked that car, you know. Anyway, I’ve got a proposition for you and if you agree, who knows, I might even forgive you in the future.

And that was so ridiculous, Luc couldn’t believe in what he heard. For a moment he forgot about the gun tucked behind the belt with a silver clasp; he didn’t think about the blonde’s minions all around him.

\- You kidnapped me from the streets, keep me in here imprisoned, violating my human rights and you expect me to hear to your _proposition_?!

The blow landed on his temple as soon as he finished the sentence.

\- Show some respect when you talk to the boss, - said the man from his left side. He was also blond but his hair was cropped short and his arms were tattooed.

\- Hey, don’t hit him unless I give the command, - the boss reproached. Something like genuine compassion sounded in his voice, but that was probably just annoyance at being disobeyed.

He stepped a little away from Lucas, taking back the papers he came in with. He opened the folder.

\- I don’t think as a common thief you’re entitled to speak about my trespasses.

\- I’m not.. – Luc closed his mouth as he realized the word ‘common’ hurt him the most and he was about to deny just that part.

The ‘boss’ looked at him as he wavered. Those blue eyes studied him closely as he began to speak again, in more serious tone this time.

\- You could go to the police when I let you go but I’d advise you against that. ‘Mariposa’ looks like a fine restaurant and Peter seems to be a really nice boy. You wouldn’t want to ruin that, would you?

Luc couldn’t say anything, couldn’t even breath, he felt like his whole world was sliding out from beneath his feet.

\- That’s what I thought. But there is no need to be so frightened. Everything is ok for now and could be even more than ok if you’ll just do what I want. And I mean it. I’ve got some influence in that district and I could set the things so that you and your Peter wouldn’t fall victims to extortions anymore. See? I’m a generous man. Not only won’t I report your theft to the police but also make your life better. What do you think?

The youth forced himself to say the words, trying to repress the trembling that seized his whole body.

\- So what do I have to do? – his voice sounded strained even to himself.

The blonde shot him a bright smile.

\- Steal something for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the idea that was born out of a year long frustration of waiting for Finder continuation. Anyone interested in the continuation?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I apologize in advance for all the mistakes and unprofessional words related to the cars in this chapter. I'm not an expert at cars and even less at stealing them, so all things are excerpted from the movies here.

When they let him out, Luc discovered he hadn’t been in a room but in some kind of a storehouse in the docks. They left him alone, with a card with an address in hand and the instruction of what to do.

He considered briefly, very briefly, calling the police but soon that thought was swept out from his mind by the image of the smiling face and threats toward Peter. What was left but to trust them?

So Luc, before going home, went to search the marked address. He had to know what he’d had to deal with.

That was how he found himself on the outskirts of town looking at his target. He had been given the precise description of the car he was supposed to steal (Aston Martin Vanquish, grey) and the detailed coordinates where it was. Only his new ‘employer’ forgot to mention it was on a fucking police parking. Luc had been stealing many things from many places but it was always away from the cops. Now he was expected to snatch something from under their nose.

Luc scanned the place before him, leaning onto telegraph pole, hood up – it never hurt to be cautious. It seemed there was monitoring but otherwise the parking wasn’t guarded too closely. There was a little cabin near the entry gate, two people could be in at most. There was also some warning sign at the fence that could state ‘keep off, electric fence’ but the youth wasn’t sure from the distance. Luc kept observing the place for a long time, memorizing locations, noting mentally the critical points, his mind forming a plan already.

 

* * *

 

 

He walked into the ‘Mariposa’ using the side entrance to not meet any customers. There rarely was any but, knowing his luck, somebody would be there for sure when he least wanted it. He closed the door quietly after himself and dragged himself to the bed. Peter must had heard him nonetheless for the door to their room opened soon after.

Peter looked angry when he walked in, seemingly ready to continue their quarrel but once he saw his friend’s face his expression changed completely. All the anger was gone, replaced by worry and concern.

\- What happened to you?! – he exclaimed rushing to Luc’s side.

He leaned to check his roommate face closely. Luc had no doubt he looked terrible, after all the blows he received.

\- Just a street fight, - he said, which was a bit true for they came for him on the street in the first place. – It’s nothing, Peter.

\- Nothing?! All your face is one big bruise, your left eye is completely black. Do you even see something with it? – he wavered a finger before Luc’s eye.

Luc grabbed his hand.

\- It’s okay, Peter. It’s not so bad as it looks.

\- Wait for me, I’ll get rid of the client and came right back. Just sit and wait.

\- You don’t have to…

He was out in a second, not listening to Luc’s protests. He returned after some time, armed with a pack of ice. Luc observed him through one eye – the other swelled rapidly – as he approached the bed and proceeded to tend to Luc’s injuries.

He grabbed Luc’s face and turned it left and right, checking the damage and Luc suddenly, unreasonably remembered the blond man’s fingers touching him like that. He flinched inwardly but let Peter continue. When his friend put the ice bag over the left eye it felt instantly better.

\- Are you hurt somewhere else? – asked Peter. – Stomach? Arms?

\- Just the face.

Luc reached to the ice bag, brushing Peter’s hand away and pressing the blessed cold a little harder to his flesh. He closed the only seeing eye in relief.

\- You should go see the doctor.

Luc’s eye cracked open.

\- For fuck’s sake, Peter, it’s just a few bruises! They’ll fade soon enough. Stop making all the fuss, I’m not a child.

\- You behave like one.

Silence fell between them. Luc closed his eye again and slumped down onto the bed. He still could almost feel Peter’s anxious stare on him.

\- Do you need something? – said Peter after a while. – Bring you some food or water?

\- No.

He heard Peter standing up.

\- Just rest then. Keep the ice like that and stay in bed.

\- Yes, mummy, - chuckled Luc.

 

* * *

 

 

At the night, Luc raised quietly to not wake up Peter breathing evenly on the second bed. Feeling like a last bastard, he searched for his balaclava. He had to do this, and for Peter’s sake mostly, but he also knew that Peter wouldn’t approve of that.

Luc casted a glance at Peter’s peaceful sleeping face before walking out into the night.

 

* * *

 

 

The hooded figure walked to the fuse box, opened it with a crowbar and smashed the insides with it. The current exploded, mini lightening bolted in all directions and the lamps shut off. The wrecker ducked, covering his eyes at the flying sparks. Then everything went dark.

At the same time the TV in the gatehouse died off. The fat caretaker stood up from the chair and walked to the box with a curse. He hit it a few times, angry that it broke down in the middle of a match. He was supposed to watch the video footage but nothing ever happened here so he choose the more interesting occupation. Now the stupid machine didn’t work at all.

Lucas sneaked to the parking fence and threw experimentally a twig from the ground onto it. Nothing happened. He climbed swiftly up, over the railing and jumped at the other side to the ground. He run to the place he saw the car earlier. It was there still. He crouched next to the mirror and slipped the thin rod where the window connected with the door. He held a breath when he found the opening mechanism inside. His ‘boss’ said there was only a silent alarm but who knew if the man spoke the truth. Luc had figured that he would be heard when he’d start the engine anyway, so if the siren had sounded now he’d just had a little less time…

The mechanism clicked characteristically and the car was silent. Luc opened the door, letting out a breath. He sat in, bent under the wheel to find wires. When he wrecked the cables out, it was too dark to distinguish colors. Luc casted a glance out of the window before he decided to lit his workplace with a phone. It was impossible to see someone into these darkness but there were no other signs that someone had heard him.

The thief severed two of the wires and joined the free ends together. The engine came to life, the lights switched on, two beams reflected the parking before him. Now there was no way nobody noticed him. Luc slammed the gas pedal and rushed forward.

He maneuvered between the requisitioned cars, riding as fast as he could without crashing. As he neared entry, a guy jumped before the gates, flapping his hands. No doubt a police guard. He shouted something, probably to stop the car. Luc kept on going, praying silently that the man would escape. The guy jumped away in the last moment, Luc slammed the car into a fence and the gates gave way at the impact.

Luc rode out on the road, grinning victoriously. He almost took off his mask seconds before he heard police siren behind. He cursed and turned into the closest alley. He was heading to the district he was raised in, practically onto streets, before he moved to Peter and his family. He knew every corner there.

However the police car was still visible into the mirror, the siren seemed to be closer by the second. The streets weren’t very crowded so late into the night but they weren’t also suitable to speed up to the maximum speed.

Luc glanced into the mirror and realized with horror that the police car was really nearer. Then there was a sound of shoot and the back window in his car broke, web of scratches covered it.

\- Shit! – he shouted, leaning down onto the wheel.

At the nearest crossing he slipped at the red light, noticed with some relief the police car slowed as some lorry rode in before him. He sped up, turned right, then left, rode into some narrow street and parked at the roadside, into a row of the cars standing already there.

He turned off the engine and the lights and sat there in the darkness almost too afraid to breath. He heard the siren coming closer, closer still and his heart almost jumped out of his chest, beating furiously. But then the siren started to recede, the howl quieter with each heartbeat.

When he couldn’t hear it anymore, he breathed in and out slowly to calm himself, started up the car again and rode as normally and unsuspiciously as he could to the docks.

When he reached his destination, they were already there, waiting for him at the feral store. One of them gestured to him to rode in, so he did and parked inside.

He got out of the car, excited, adrenaline from the chase still coursing through his system. He walked, feeling so surreal like he was in a dream, to the blond guy, his ‘boss’, that was smiling at him. He was clad in a black leather jacket this time but there could be no mistaking him with anybody else. He was smiling and his blue eyes shone in amusement. When Luc stopped before him, he reached out with his hand and took off the boy’s balaclava. Luc, overcame by all the events, forgot he still wore it.

\- A legitimate thief, - he commented, returning the cloth to Luc.

\- Are we even now, Mr. … - Luc realized he didn’t even now the guy’s name.

\- Mikhail. Call me Mikhail, - suppled the man. – Yes, we are even. You are free to go.

He smiled at the youth. Luc heard the doors to the warehouse being slammed shut behind them, but he heard it like it was in a great distance. It was over.

\- But I invite you to go with us, - continued Mikhail. - I think your job demands a little celebration, wouldn’t you agree? You are alive, you delivered me a car with only a scratch and no one came after you. Come drink with as, Lucas. I’ll gladly hear how you outsmarted the police.

Many times later Luc wondered how his life would look if he had declined then. In that moment the proposition was highly appealing. The man offered drinks, fun and the possibility to share with someone the latest experience. In home waited angry Peter, ready to threw at him the countless accusations the moment he walked in.

\- Yes, - he said. – That sounds good.

Lucas got into the car with Mikhail and the limousine rode off. He hadn't seen as behind the closed door of the warehouse, one of Arbatov’s man opened the stolen car, cut the upholstery and begun pulling off the plastic bags full of white powder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be longer but I don't want to keep you waiting so long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much action here but a lot of drinking.
> 
> Sorry for all the stereotypes used in this chapter. (Especially to Russian readers if there are any.)

Luc gulped down the content of his glass. His determination not to wince came to naught as the living fire burned down his throat and esophagus. Someone clapped him on the shoulder as he tried to take a breath.

\- There is nothing better than vodka after the first assignment, - said the man philosophically.

\- First and last, - breathed the youth reaching for a juice he saw on the table.

Another’s man hand pushed the glass out of his reach.

\- First glass without a chaser. Be a man, - he said in a mock scolding.

Lucas didn’t get their names yet. They were sitting at the sofas around the table. Some were standing nearly.  Lucas, as a newbie, picked their attention. Only few were located further away, by other tables or at the game area. The guys that had beaten him the other day were nowhere in sight.

At the table stood ice cold vodka bottle constantly. When one ended, another was served by the women in skimpy clothes. Lucas felt almost like in some club, not a private residence. But the villa, illuminated with lamps, with a long driveway, imposing fencing and a guard at the gates was undoubtedly a dwelling house.

They refilled his glass and he drink it up almost immediately only to lay a hand onto the blessed juice at last. One of the standing man said something in Russian and some guys laughed, Lucas had the unpleasant feeling that he was causing the amusement.

Mikhail, that was sitting opposite him, letting the teasing so far, leaned forward.

\- Tell us about your tonight’s success, we're all curious - he asked.

Lucas felt somewhat uncomfortable as they all waited for his story but after all that was one of the reasons he was here so he started talking. At first uncertainly, hesitating where to begin, with lots of questions from them.

\- That was the first time someone’s been shooting at me! There is always an adrenaline when I’m doing something I’m not supposed to do but that was so much more.. intense, - he started without much chronology, from the part that affected him the most instead.

\- First time for everything as they say – someone’s commented.

\- But how did you open the car without keys? – another asked.

\- How did you sneaked into the parking in the first place?

The inquires sprinkled over Lucas and he tried to answer them, satisfy their curiosity without revealing everything, keeping some parts for himself as a  ‘professional secrecy’. Talking about things he knew, sipping the juice mixed with vodka to refresh his throat - was giving him more confidence and before he realized it, he was telling them about the police chase as if relating an anecdote to the friends. No one was interrupting him now. He felt Mikhail’s eyes on him.

\- And the idiot must had rode straight ahead without realizing the car he was chasing had disappeared! – he ended and they laughed around him but now they were laughing from his words, not from himself and he felt better and more relaxed than in a long time.

\- Another round for our hero! – called some man and poured the vodka to Lucas’ glass. Lucas drunk.

\- Seems like our old dogs are the best still, better than some electric fence against the robbery, - commented some older guy.

Lucas heard a clash of falling tray and looked in that direction. He saw a man grabbing the woman that passed him and pulling her onto his lap. She didn’t seem upset and laughed out loud as he whispered something to her. Lucas glanced away as the man put one hand on the girl’s breast, feeling as if he was intruding.

His glass was magically full again so he gulped it down.

\- If you want one of the ladies, be my guest, - spoke up Mikhail from across the table, slouching onto the sofa and observing Lucas.

\- N-no, thanks, - said Luc, hoping that his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

Mikhail smiled wickedly and moved closer to him. Luc realized there were decisively fewer men at the table, they must had dispersed around the room after he finished his story. He realized, also, that Mikhail wore earrings.

\- Could it be that you weren’t with a woman yet? – the Russian said confidently in a hushed voice so that only Luc heard him.

The youth felt his cheeks burn even more.

\- Who would have guess? – Mikhail feigned disbelief theatrically. – Such a handsome boy!

That send more than one amused stare in their direction. Luc shifted uncomfortably. He desperately searched for a way out.

\- What did they say earlier? – he asked, finding a change of topic. – Something about me in Russian.

Mikhail sat next to him, facing him, one leg pulled at the sofa.

\- That you are drinking like a girl, - he explained. – Too bad Tasha isn’t here for she would prove them wrong.

Mikhail filled their glasses again and drunk his with a practiced ease. Luc was beginning to think these guys had some different genes. They were all drinking hard and it was barely showing while he himself felt drunk already and he had drunk considerably less than the rest of the gathering.

\- But seriously, you’ve never get laid? – Mikhail returned to the previous subject, obviously enjoying making Luc embarrassed. – It’s hard to believe. With your looks girls should be fighting for you.

Someone else came to them, shoving Mikhail in the arm.

\- What are you doing to the poor boy, Misha? He’ll blend into the sofa from shame. – The guy seemed only a few years older from Luc so Luc thought he shouldn’t call him ‘boy’. – Do you want me to save you from him? – he asked Luc directly. – Come and play pool with me. The table is free.

He reached a hand for Luc and Luc took it for he wasn’t sure he could get up by himself. He was sure, however, he didn’t want any more questions of the kind from Mikhail.

\- You spoil my fun, Ivan, - commented Mikhail, glaring up at him. - I don’t know what Irine sees in you. Your sense of humor is non existing.

\- My chivalry, of course, - answered Ivan over his shoulder as he was leading Luc to the pool table.

\- I’m not sure if I’m in any state to play, - Luc said. His head spin.

\- You are. Maybe just not in a state to win. – He heard the answer and was handed a cue.

He lost spectacularly. He managed to pot a ball only once and he missed a ball completely several times. Someone was smoking nearby and the smell was making Luc sick. He gladly accepted the proposition to make place for someone else at the game, handed over the cue and he left in search for a fresh air.

He ended at the bar instead. The woman there, with more make-up than clothes, smiled at him and offered him a drink. He asked for water. It was cold and tasted marvelously and he only just realized how thirsty he was.

Luc felt a dark gaze on himself and looked around. He saw a man drinking nearby, with a grim face, his mouth pressed into a thin line and glaring at him as if Luc was some abomination. Luc had no idea what he did to offend him but he went away just in case.

As he was crossing the room, he stumbled onto the even floor and would have fell if not for someone’s hands steadying him.

\- Careful. Too much vodka or too little training? – asked Mikhail’s voice, then the blue eyes appeared before Lucas. – If you want to lie down, there are spare beds upstairs. The floor isn’t so comfortable as the mattress are.

\- No, thank you, - Luc heard his own voice stumbling. – I just want to go to home. My home I mean.

\- You sure?

\- Yeah, I need return. I’d just go now, - he started walking in the direction of the entrance.

\- Wait! – A hand on his chest stopped him. With the other Mikhail gestured to one of the girls to come closer. – Hey, sweetheart, can you call a taxi for me? – Girl nodded and disappeared. Mikhail returned his attention to Luc. – If you walk like that, you’ll end up in a ditch, - he chuckled.

\- Can we- Can I wait outside? It’s hot in here.

Mikhail led him outside, the fresh air washed over his face and he felt soberer instantly.

\- Too little training, I think, - said Lucas, referring to Mikhail’s earlier words. – You guys drink vodka like a water.

Mikhail laughed at that. - You just weren’t born in Russia.

Lucas wandered how strange it all was. Yesterday he felt like he had hated the man, now he was joking with him. And Mikhail had something in him that Luc felt relaxed in his company. If the youth wasn’t drunk, he’d think it dangerous. The man was bigger, stronger and had all these brutes at his command and yet, talking with him, Lucas didn’t feel intimidated. Perhaps it was his careless attitude.

The taxi arrived. Lucas moved on to the car, hoping he was walking more or less straight. When he opened the door, Mikhail stopped him once more. The blond man stepped closer and slid a plastic card to Lucas’ breast pocket. Luc furrowed his brow in confusion.

\- Consider it a parting gift from me, - the man patted the youth’s pocket. – A prize for the well down task.

He practically pushed the boy into the car. He leaned over him and handed a roll of money to the driver.

\- Take him where he wants, - he said.

He straightened up.

 - Good bye, Lucas, - Mikhail said, slamming the door. Then he walked back to the villa.

\- What’s the address? – asked the driver. Luc told him Peter’s address and the car started. The boy turned around to see through the back window Mikhail’s silhouette disappearing into the house.


	4. Chapter 4

When he returned, Peter, of course, was furious.

\- You’re awake, - observed Luc unwisely, coming into the room with all the grace of a drunken man and seeing Peter standing there.

\- Of course I am! I wake in the middle of the night and you aren’t here! After you’ve returned beaten the last time! I was wondering if I should call the police. But then I thought that you’re probably doing something illegal so it would only put you in more trouble.

Luc sat down onto his bed heavily, only partly listening to Peter’s row. God, how tired he was!

\- But now I see it wasn’t even that. You’re completely drunk! Now you’re going to sneak to the parties in the middle of the night without saying anything to me?!

Luc knew Peter was just worrying about him. He should be grateful. But right now he only wanted to sleep.

\- Better partying than stealing, eh?

\- I’m so fed up with you!!

Peter rushed out of the room. Luc just slumped onto his bed without undressing himself and fell asleep almost immediately.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucas sat on a bench in the park with a laptop on his knees. It was the only place with ersatz of fresh air in a city like Macao. Fresh air was so much better than fumes when he had hangover. Besides, he didn’t want Peter seeing him now, when he logged onto the bank website.

He checked account balance. 10, 000 $. Wow, if that wasn’t the highest bonus he got in his lifetime. Then he changed all the significant data, security was important. Also, he won’t be logging in as “pretty16”.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucas found his life turning more boring with each day. Nothing that deserved his attention happened. The things with restaurant were going well. People came, ordered food, went out. He and Peter prepared the food, served it and washed up later. Luc felt like he would go crazy.

\- Let’s get the washing machine at least, - he said one day.

\- It’s a waste of money.

\- I’ve got money.

\- That pack you hid in the room? From stealing?

Peter would not touch these. Luc couldn’t exactly tell him about the credit card and business with Mikhail either. His relations with Peter were growing more and more strained. Luc wondered when they would snap.

One day Peter shoved a newspaper at him.

\- Was that you?! Speak the truth!

It take a while before Luc noticed the article. “The unknown assailant stole the car from police parking,” the title said. On the 6th page only! C’mon, that was the greatest achievement in his life for now. Luc felt a stab of disappointment.

\- On the same date you disappeared into the middle of the night! – Peter was shouting.

Luc didn’t say anything, just looked at his friend. Peter must had read the truth from his eyes for he sounded defeated when he ended his speech with:

 – And here I foolishly thought you were only partying.

The other day Peter wiped the plates with a thoughtful expression.

\- You will make a hole in this if you keep going, - laughed Luc.

Peter roused from his reverie.

\- I was just wondering… why didn’t they come for money in this month yet?

\- That’s rather good, ain’t it? You should be glad instead of worried.

Suspicion crept into Peter’s eyes at Luc’s light tone.

\- Do you have something to do with it?

\- Are you gonna accuse me of everything in this world?! And why are you even talking about it like that? What, you miss them? You want to land in a hospital because of them? Are you a fucking masochist?!

Luc walked out, kicking the chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little boring and I'm sorry for it but bear with me. In the next chapter (or maybe the one after it) there will be some... sexy (?) action.


	5. Chapter 5

Luc’s life became unbearably boring. He hated the boring routine of the life in the restaurant. He escaped from there as often as he could, leaving Peter with all the work. He had money for bills after all, though he doubted Peter would agree to pay with his illegally obtained money for the utensils. Well, his lose.

Luc found out he missed the dangerous part of his life that came with committing misdemeanors. That adrenaline he felt when stealing something, the uncertainty if he will be noticed. He had even missed the thrill of the police chase that, with the gun shooting, was the most dangerous experience in his life.

With Peter, who was all about righteousness, he couldn’t  even talk about this. There was also Matt but he was occupied in his workshop. Luc helped him sometimes but he wasn’t an expert in fixing cars. The most he liked it when Matt had some fast car to try and allowed him to ride them. He speeded through the highway, nearly passing the limits and it was almost like that time when he was escaping the police chase. Only not so intense.

He had also find out he missed Mikhail. Or rather, not the man himself – who was a criminal after all – but the kind of life he led. He lived in a villa, he drove expensive cars, the women surely chased after him. Luc had mixed feelings about the man. He was “the bad guy” that walked armed with a gun and ordered his people to kidnap and beat Luc. Yet, the other thought countered in his mind, he had also forbid his people from hitting Luc unnecessary and kept his word about keeping the brutes away from the restaurant. He had also gave him the additional money for the well-fulfilled task and didn’t even mention again the stolen Ferrari. Sometimes, incredulously, Luc felt even indebted to him which was ridiculous for maybe the man didn’t turn Luc in to the cops for stealing one car but he had also ordered him to steal another one in exchange for his silence. That wasn’t a deal anyone should propose. Nor that Luc had any right, or will, to complain.

There were also some other thoughts, disturbing thoughts, bordering on subconsciousness to which Luc would never admit aloud. The blue eyes occupied the main position amongst them. Clear, merry blue eyes that Luc had first saw while bound to the chair and scared of his very life. Luc had never before thought that blue color, which was one of the cold shades, could be so warm. Mikhail’s eyes had the color of a summer sky in the cloudless day. Luc wondered if they could look menacing if the owner was angry, like a sky just before a storm… but then, he had never seen Mikhail truly angry. He seemed a little displeased at having his car stolen but there was more amusement rather than annoyance in his gaze then.

He had frowned when one of his man hit Luc without a direct command but the wince didn’t reach his eyes. They seemed to reflect his good humor all the time, his charming smile and careless attitude. He had always seemed cheerful, the air of easiness  washed over the people gathered around him, lured everyone to him. Luc remembered how they called him by a pet name, talking with him like with a good friend, not the demanding boss and yet there was no doubt who was in charge. And Luc wasn’t surprised at their familiarity as he himself felt drawn to the man after just one evening.

Caught in his boring life, filled with unspecified desires, Luc started going out each evening. He visited clubs, night clubs and casinos of Macao. He was not looking for Mikhail. His life didn’t need the complication the man would brought with his very presence into it.

That he went to the clubs with the names written in Cyrillic was a pure coincidence.         

Usually he spent evenings drinking at the bar, sometimes dancing or talking with a nice looking girl. After a few fruitless going-outs he admitted to himself it wouldn’t be so bad to meet Mikhail in one of them. The man must have visited them, it was a place like that where Luc stole his car after all. Lucas wasn’t going to search him actively, going to his house seemed too desperate… and what would he say to him then? But to bump into him just like that, with no hidden purpose – Luc still didn’t think up what would happen then but he wouldn’t have anything against meeting Mikhail again.

Maybe he would propose drinking again… or won’t even recognize Luc which was, sadly, more possible. He had a bunch of men under his command, professional criminals no doubt, ready do anything for him. What would he need someone like Luc for?

 

* * *

 

 

One day, as he went to some really expensive looking club, the guard at the door stopped him.

\- Get lost, kid, - he said seizing Luc from head to toes with a disapproving gaze.

Luc felt offended at his tone.

\- Why? – he asked, not retreating an inch from the guy twice his size and trying to look insolent. – I’m old enough to enter and I want to have some fun. Let me in.

The bodyguard was unimpressed.

\- You need a participant card to enter, kid. And judging by your clothes, you can’t afford that.

Now Luc felt really angry. Who gave that man the right to treat him like that? Maybe he could forbid him to enter but surely he wasn’t allowed to offend the possible clients.

\- And who’s saying that? – blurted out Luc. – Your uniform surely doesn’t look like straight from Prada. How much do you earn by the way? Enough only to buy the muscle-building steroids?

The movement of the man’s arm and the fury that flashed in his eyes were enough to warn Luc. He jumped back, ducking from the guy’s fit raised to a powerful hit. The bodyguard loose his balance for a second and Luc didn’t waste the time to run before he could be caught. He heard angry shouts behind him but luckily there weren’t any footsteps. He run without turning back. When he felt safe enough, he slowed down and mingled with the crowd.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later Luc sat at the bar in yet another club. Or restaurant rather. It was connected with the hotel, a lobby where the guests could drink and eat. But there was music also and many people were dancing. It was nothing like the small cozy “Mariposa”.

Luc ordered vodka shot. Practice makes perfect as they say. After fourth glass he decided it wasn’t the best of his ideas. He could practice it while being in a known company or at least a known place. Instead of ordering the fifth shot, he reached for a menu with drinks.

\- I’d recommend the blue one, - said a voice next to him.

Luc glanced at his side. A man, seemingly in his thirties, sat beside him, sipping mojito.

\- And how do you know it’s good?

\- I’m a frequent customer, - the man smiled at him.

Something in that smile should had warned Luc but he was a little boozy already and he didn’t care. Mikhail was nowhere in sight. He would probably not see him ever again. He ordered the blue one.

\- Good? – asked the man, after a while.

It was, so Luc confirmed. He looked around the room once more, losing the sight of his drink for a moment, but there wasn’t this particular shade of blond hair amongst the hotel guests. He thought it was quite stupid of him to hope he would be here. He had his own villa after all, why would he came at the hotel? Luc drunk from his drink.

\- Are you waiting for someone? – Luc realized the man was closer now, leaning toward him. He supposed it was because of the loud music, to better hear each other.

\- No, - he replied shortly, moving slightly away and drinking few deep gulps of his drink.

\- Your date stood you up? – the man insisted on invading his personal space. – You can tell me, I know many ways of cheering up.

This was starting to be really alarming. Luc gulped down the rest of his drink hastily, determined to get out. A hand landed on his thigh. Okay, that was it. He got totally enough.

\- I’d.. better go now.

He swept the hand off his leg and made to stand up. The world before his eyes whirled slightly and he thought with confusion he shouldn’t be so drunk after so little amount of consumed alcohol.

\- Don’t escape so fast, - the man purred, steadying him on a high barstool. – We can have some fun yet.

\- I think not, - the other voice called that sounded vaguely familiar.

Someone pushed himself between Luc and the other guy and Luc saw that wonderful funny suit before his eyes again. He heard the argument as if he was miles away.

\- Get out, - barked the voice with slight Russian accent.

\- What the hell? I saw him first. Go find yourself someone else.

There was some commotion though Luc couldn’t tell precisely what was happening. There was some scuffle perhaps for he saw the man from earlier pressed to the bar and the bartender alarmed expression.

\- Get out or I’ll have you kicked out.

Then the man disappeared though Luc couldn’t exactly grasp how that happened and he had the feeling he was missing something. Hands touched his cheeks and he saw Mikhail’s face before him. The man was asking him something. He couldn’t make out the words. He smiled faintly in response.

The Russian sighted.

\- You seem adamant on ruining my evenings, Lucas.

 Luc felt the man’s arm sliding across his back and helping him up. He stood up obediently, leaning onto the other man.

\- Let’s get you out of here, - his breath tickled Luc’s ear as he spoke.

The youth followed him, no longer carrying where or by whom he was dragged, barely conscious of his surroundings. Then even these shreds of reality drifted out and it was all dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, sorry for the cliffhanger.


	6. Chapter 6

Luc awakened to the sound of running water. Peter must be taking the shower. Luc rolled over onto the other side, determined to sleep a bit longer.

Only then he realized something was not right. The bed seemed bigger. More comfortable. He opened his eyes, looked around the room. Spacious, with expensive furniture. Definitely not his room. One wall was made wholly of glass, behind Luc could see the sun rising over the ocean. He paused for a moment in his thoughts, admiring the view.

The shower was turned off. Luc tried to remind himself frantically where he was, why he was here and who the hell was in the bathroom.

Yesterday’s night. He went to the club, there was this guy and yes, Mikhail! It all came in fragments though. Did they talk with Mikhail? Why couldn’t he remember anything, damn it?! When he had finally met him… It couldn’t be just a dream, he was in a hotel room after all. But why was he here? He was pretty sure he didn’t rent anything. He still wore his clothes, only his boots were off. He didn’t even remember climbing up the stairs. Or lift. Or whatever.

How did he find himself here? He had a feeling that something – much – was amiss and he didn’t like it one bit.

He heard door from the bathroom being opened, his eyes darted in the direction. He sat straight up onto the bed, his heart jumped up to his throat, blocking his breath, as his gaze was locked onto the moving handle.

But then the door opened and Luc’s heart remembered how to beat again. It beat too fast suddenly, to be honest. There was him, Mikhail himself, straight from the shower, wrapped only in a towel. Luc could see the wide chest, the flat stomach, the way the white towel curled around the narrow hips…

\- Lucas, you’re awake, - his voice broke into Luc’s thoughts. – Good morning.

He was smiling as always. Luc started to wonder if the guy ever get serious. But wait, maybe yesterday…

\- Where, - Luc started, then changed his mind. – Why ‘m here?

God, his voice sounded so raspy he barely recognized it. His tongue felt dry like a desert and strangely stiff.

Mikhail approached the bed casually. He walked as carelessly as always, completely unfazed that he was almost naked safe for the towel. Luc thought briefly that beneath that one layer of cloth he was indeed nude.

\- I dragged you here yesterday, - Mikhail said, which wasn’t exactly an answer for what Luc wanted to know.

The youth was suddenly aware that there was only one bed in the room. He stood up and almost felt at the nearest wall. He stayed there, his back supported by the solid surface.

\- Did we-, - he stammered, feeling his cheek heat up and staring somewhere to the floor, - uh, did something?

\- Are you asking if we had sex? – There it was, the same amusement in his voice as when he was teasing him at the party.

\- Did we? - said Luc too thinly for his own liking.

He wasn’t looking at Mikhail though he was aware the man was closing on him. Then a hand appeared at the corner of his eye when Mikhail put it on the wall beside his head. The Russian was at least one head taller than him. Fuck, how can the man be so much in control of the situation, even though Luc was the one fully dressed?

\- Would you want us to? – asked Mikhail close to Luc’s face.

Luc wanted to melt into the wall right now. He forced himself to look at the man before him. He couldn’t look him in the eye though so he settled on his mouth. Which was smirking.

\- I- he choked, his cheeks, no, his whole face probably by now, were red.

Mikhail must had took some pity on him for he drew back a little. He took his hand from the wall and raised Luc’s chin up with his fingers. So the boy was staring straight into those blue eyes. The fingers let go of him. Luc noticed, also, that the Russian had washed his hair and now it was starting to curl with dampness.

\- No, Lucas, nothing happened, - the blonde said. – As much as I appreciate your cute looks, I prefer my lovers to be more… responsive than you were last night. And I’m not going to use someone under the influence of a rape pill. Where is the fun in that?

\- Rape pill? – Luc’s eyes widened.

\- That guy you were drinking with yesterday add the drug to your glass when you weren’t looking. You should be more careful.

\- I wasn’t drinking with him, - said Luc and mentally face palmed. What was that? Trying to explain he wasn’t with anyone?

\- Anyway, just be more careful around your drinks.

Mikhail looked like he totally didn’t care and why would he? It’s not that he had some expectations toward Luc, or could make demands. Luc wasn’t even one of his men. They were just two… what exactly? Acquaintances? Partners in crime? Luc almost smiled at that thought but then he became aware that Mikhail was there finally, standing just a step from him, but he didn’t even know what to say. Not after last night. When the blonde had rescued him, dragged him to his apartment, paid for probably extremely expensive night at the hotel and Luc couldn’t remember anything. Worse still, the man for sure had some plans that didn’t involve taking care of some kid and Luc had ruined it. Again.

He suddenly felt very much like it wasn’t his place, like he was intruding into Mikhail’s life, like he shouldn’t be here.

Mikhail was watching him. Luc raked a hand through his hair, which was a bad idea for he realized it wasn’t as clean as he would like it to be, his clothes were from yesterday also and the contrast with the guy standing in front of him was just too much.

\- I- I think I should go. Sorry for all the trouble and thanks for everything and,- he made a move as if walking away but Mikhail stopped him. By putting the hands on his shoulders. And Luc noticed he was also more muscled than he was giving him the credit for, somehow the suits and muscles didn’t connect in his head.

\- Hey, where do you think you are you going so quickly?

And now half-ridiculous and half-scary thought appeared in Luc’s head as he stood there, held against the wall by the Russian criminal. Did the man expected some gratitude? Some payback?

\- I have to, Peter would be worried, - Luc said faintly.

\- Are you afraid of me? – Mikhail looked like he found the idea amusing. His eyes were sparkling. – If I wanted to do you any harm, I would do so already.

Luc felt relieved and stupid at once.

\- I just thought you’d like to refresh yourself before you go, - continued Mikhail, letting him go.

He stepped away from Lucas, still talking.

\- Go take the shower and I’ll order us breakfast. Pancakes will be ok?

When he turned with his back to the youth, Luc’s eyes widened in shock. He saw the Russian’s back was all covered in scars. The net of thin lines crossed his skin from shoulders to the waist. What the hell? Was he whipped?

He must had made some noise, for Mikhail looked at him from across his shoulder.

\- Not so pretty as the rest of me, eh? – a little smile still played at his lips though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

\- Uh, do they hurt? – blurted out Luc, not knowing what to say but not wanting to just stare in silence also. He shouldn’t stare at all but he couldn’t tear his eyes apart and Mikhail wasn’t in any hurry to hide his back from the view.

The Russian laughed genuinely at his words.

\- No, not any more, - he said. – It’s an old story.

\- I- sorry, I shouldn’t have…

\- What? Watching? I don’t mind.

He sounded and behaved like he meant it. He could had easily cover it earlier, put on some shirt and yet he hadn’t. Even now he could stand differently, with his front toward Lucas rather than his back when he leaned down to pick up the room phone.

 

Luc went to the bathroom. Behind the closed door he could think more clearly, without the presence of almost-naked, blue-eyed, blond-haired man distracting him.

When he turned from the door, he stopped for a moment, taking in the surroundings. The bathroom was basically larger than the room he shared with Peter. In their little bathroom a shower occupied practically all the space. Here was one that could accommodate two people at the same time at least. And the bathtub! It was practically a small jaccuzi.  

But that didn’t matter in the face of what he had saw just a while back, he thought, shedding his clothes off mechanically. He got in the shower, turning on the water. Who could do this to him? And why? All his people seemed to like him, even love him in a way, as much as Luc could judge that after the few meetings. And being a crime organization leader, which he undoubtedly was, offered a certain protection. Who would dare to hurt him like that? If it was an enemy, why not kill him?

But then, the scars looked rather old, and Mikhail had said as much. Was it done to him while he was a child yet? Abusive parent maybe? Or some other family member, older and with more power than Mikhail? With sadistic tendencies at that. Luc couldn’t even imagine what Mikhail could do to deserve something like that, even in the eyes of some sick aggressive bastard.

Only now Luc realized how stupid his question was. Do they hurt? Fuck, he should’ve asked who had done this. And yet no, it wasn’t his place. He barely knew Mikhail, it would be pushing into his private life.

Luc reached for a shampoo. Soaping his hair, he thought that Mikhail probably done that earlier, from the same bottle and how surrealistic it all was. He had been looking for him, without a straight purpose only to be found and rescued by him. And then he spent a night in his bed. Now he was taking the shower while the other man was just behind the door. Wearing just a towel. That exposed the chest, arms and back covered in all those scars.

It was terrible just to think how a beating that left such marks must had hurt. In Luc’s mind flashed a vision of Mikhail half-undressed, tied to a post, with some dark dangerous figure luring behind, holding a whip. Had he screamed? Had he jerked, trying to escape with each next blow, cutting his skin, blood mixing with his sweat as a shudder went through him… Highly alarming was the fact that the image, apart from horrendous, was a little bit arousing.

There was a knock at the door.

\- Lucas? Don’t want to hurry you but the breakfast will get cold.

\- I’m coming, - called back Luc, rinsing his head quickly.

 

Mikhail was already dressed in a grey suit, sitting on a chair with crossed legs and sipping his coffee. Well, half-dressed for a jacket hung on the backrest of the chair. Luc noticed a gun holder beneath but let that slip. Instead he glanced at the handsome face, earrings and unbuttoned top of the white shirt and wondered how it is possible to look so perfect in the morning.  

His own yesterday clothes, though bought specially after the incident with the bodyguard to make sure he would be let into the expensive clubs, seemed abruptly cheap.

\- Are you waiting for an invitation? Please, take a seat, - Mikhail made an exaggerated gesture, indicating the other chair.

\- No, I just got lost in my thoughts.

Luc sat down, annoyed with himself. He reached for a coffee for it smelled gorgeously.

\- So, long time no see, - started Mikhail. – How is it going? Partying at the clubs, spending your money?

Which was actually his money, thought Luc glumly. One for illegal job of stealing a car for him, one from stealing his very own car and selling it to Matt.

\- More or less.

\- Or maybe are you trying to pick up someone? Now you’ve got everything: looks and money. Who could resist? Oh, I hope I haven’t spoil your date.

\- That’s not funny.

\- Why not? Nothing bad has happened and you’ve gained a new experience. Not everyone has taken a rape pill, you can say you’re special now. Besides, it’s always a new adventure. Life would be boring without adventures.

Luc looked at him incredulously. Was he serious? On the other hand, the whole business with the clubs started out of boredom…

\- You should eat something though.

\- I’m not really hungry.

\- But it will make you feel better, trust me. Fat food is the second best hangover cure. I’ve got some experience in the matter.

Luc scoffed but reached for the pancakes dripping with syrup obediently.

\- Experience, you say. I believed Russians don’t have a word like hangover after drinking with you then.

Mikhail chuckled at that.

\- We just have developed remedies.

\- So what’s the best cure? – asked Luc with full mouths. It was amazing what a friendly atmosphere the other man created with just being there. Luc had been drugged, had hangover and right now he felt happy. – You said eating is second best.

Mikhail leaned toward him and lowered his voice as if telling him some secret.

\- Drinking.

\- What? How’s that supposed to help?

\- I’m not winding you up! It’s a very effective method. You just keep drinking, not making too long breaks and so not allowing hangover to come to you. You’re always a step ahead of it. It’s like they say, to fight fire with the fire. The only disadvantage of this way is that you’re drunk all the time.

Now Luc laughed and almost choked on his food.

\- Hey, slow down a little. You have more than enough time. I’ve got a business meeting at 12. Until then, be my guest.

\- What kind of business? – asked Luc because, of course, it seemed his endless store of stupid questions didn’t finish yet.

Mikhail wasn’t angry though.

\- Some knowledge can be dangerous, Lucas. That’s why I won’t tell you and why you’d better disappear before the noon. I could probably leave you here, things shouldn’t turn out badly but one can never know when so much money and power is involved.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a looooong delay. I'll try to do update quicker the next time. Thanks to everyone that is still reading this!

Luc had left the hotel quite long before the noon, as he was told. But he didn’t get back to his house immediately. Instead he wandered without purpose, lost in thoughts, until his steps led him toward the hotel again. He knew he should turn back but he was curious. He stopped at the other side of the road. The walls at the first floor where the restaurant was were made of glass to let the guests admire the view of the ocean so he could see perfectly what was going on inside.

It took him a while to spot the flash of blond hair inside. Mikhail was sitting at the table for two, one chair empty; obviously waiting for someone. Luc pried his eyes off him as there was some commotion near the hotel entrance. A group of men, all in suits, were trying to get in. The steward seemed to have some objection but he quickly subsided after the few words from one of the group. In the short pause however Luc’s eyes caught the sight of long black hair and when the owner of them turned briefly to the ocean, the youth saw the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. To be honest he was so fair Luc could had mistaken him for a woman if not for his decidedly manly body: the broad shoulders, flat chest, narrow hips… they went inside.

Luc returned to watching Mikhail in time to see him standing up with a smile and going to move the chair for the very man with long hair Luc just noticed near the entrance. There were other men from his group as well but they took the further tables. Besides Luc’s attention was focused on the odd pair.

He watched as Mikhail returns to his place and asks the man something. He noticed that the Russian couldn’t take his eyes off the man. It also didn’t slip his attention that the very attitude of Mikhail seemed changed, he was more attentive to the person in front of him than he was to Luc most of the time they had spent together. He was as merry as usual though while the other man held himself impassive. He sat a little more straightened up, didn’t gesticulate and his face didn’t show any emotions. Luc didn’t know if that was some business mask, his character or just the general manner of Asian people.

Luc felt something unpleasant coiling in his chest as the thought that Mikhail was _flirting_ with the man struck him. The Russian was more interested in the beauty before him than in the whole world around him, be it waitress or the ocean behind the window. He was trying to engage his companion in conversation, but the talking was mostly from his side and the man’s replies were short  and concise. A vine was served for them. Eventually Mikhail produced some documents from his bag and slid them to the opposite edge of the table. As he was passing them to the other man’s outstretched hand , they palms brushed and Luc was sure Mikhail did it on purpose. The black haired man snatched the papers to himself and dedicated his full attention to them.

_Business meeting_ , thought Luc wryly. It looked awfully like a date.

Not that he had some right to complain. He certainly want’s interested in Mikhail in such a way. Even if he would, Mikhail barely knew him and vice versa. And a private life of a Russian mobster shouldn’t concern him in the slightest. Besides what had he thought? That someone like Mikhail, a man that had everything from good looks through money to considerable power, would be single?

Though he wasn’t jealous. At least not that kind of jealous. But the thought that that long haired man was the object of so much interest from Mikhail… Who knew how much time they were spending together usually? What they were talking about? Luc suddenly felt like his own life was meaningless compared to the people of their sort.

Deep in his thoughts, he didn’t notice a man sneaking to him from behind. Only when he felt a hard touch of the barrel on his lower back his breath hitched and his heart almost stopped and he couldn’t move frozen with fear.

“You shouldn’t be here,” said a voice from behind, with Russian accent and it sounded vaguely familiar. Luc was sure he had heard it before… “If boss tells you to leave, you leave.” And with that one word Luc recognized the voice even before the tattooed arm snaked around him and touched his breast pocket. This was one of the brutes that had beaten him in the docks! The knowledge made very little to calm him down, it even scared him further and he didn’t move when the hand checked the trousers’ pockets efficiently. What the fuck, was he searching for a gun? The only things he could find were a dead phone in his pocket and an almost empty wallet with ID inside.

“If I was an assassin, I wouldn’t stand in the open and let myself be caught so easily,” Luc said before he thought better of it.

The man actually chuckled in response, finishing searching him and the gun dropped from his back. “Good point. But now, disappear from here. You’re lucky I found you before Baishe’s men. They may not care if you are warming Misha’s bed, just shoot you immediately.”

“What-?” Luc felt a hot wave coloring his cheeks red. “We didn’t- He didn’t…”

“Not my business, kid,” said the man, standing next to him. “Misha do what he wants with whoever he wants. But seriously, get lost now. For your own sake.”

Only now the part about ‘shooting’ reached his awareness through the veil of shame and he choose to follow the man’s advice.

 

* * *

 

 

When he reached the house, Peter spared him an assessing glance, but did not say a word to him. Luc was partly glad for it for it gave him a time to think. And the object of his thoughts was right now sitting in the luxurious restaurant, drinking expensive wine and looking into the black eyes of the most beautiful man Luc had ever seen. Luc didn’t actually saw his eyes but black would suit the ebony hair and everything about the man seemed to perfectly match each other or complement each other like his impossibly pale carnation and dark hair.

Walking into their room, he caught his sight in the mirror and stopped. It wasn’t so bad as some time ago – bruises were almost invisible now. But his mind kept replaying the image of the perfect delicate face (that Mikhail was probably staring at right now) and for the first time in his life he felt ugly. Or average at best. His black hair reaching just beyond his ears were ruffled by the wind and disheveled while the ocean breeze seemed to have no effect on that guy’s waist-length hair. He realized his own hair color was rather very dark brown than the pure black he’s always taught it to be before, and brown was such a boring color. His brows seemed suddenly too thick, his jaw too firm; his high cheekbones, that one girl had praised him about, ceased to be something impressive. Everything compared to that man’s features looked plain. Even his whole complexion was suddenly too common, nor bronzed by the sun nicely nor a perfectly white marble.

\- Is something wrong with this mirror? Are you seeing a ghost in it perhaps? – asked Peter’s voice from the door and Luc jumped.

\- No, everything’s all right, - he said and ducked to the chest of drawers to find fresh clothes. He wondered how long Peter stood there observing him. Well, not the first time he noticed Luc doing something stupid… At least he talked to him so maybe their relations weren’t so bad yet. Changing his shirt while Peter still stood there he supposed he should offer something from himself too.

\- So… Do you need some help maybe? Many clients today?

Peter raised his brow.

– Look who remembers living here, - he said in a mock voice. He paused for a second, then added, - Sure you can help. Do the washing up, - and walked out of the room before Luc managed to propose to change it to the waiter job instead.

 

* * *

 

 

For the next few days Luc wondered how to get close to Mikhail. ‘How’ wasn’t exactly the main problem, Luc knew where the villa he was staying in was. The greater difficulty was the reason. He couldn’t just walk in and demand getting a job. It would be an ideal one, of course. He would have money and respect and a better life. It wouldn’t be nowhere as boring as running a small restaurant… Those were all fine reasons but he couldn’t use any of them. Not after _that_ night in the hotel. If one of Mikhail’s man suspected something happened between them, the rest was probably thinking not so differently. Luc felt his cheeks going warm at the mere thought about it. So as things were, if he just went there asking for an employment, he would look like a whore to them. And that was something he couldn’t bear.

Mikhail was a nice guy, talking with him was funny, and just being with him felt good. But a guy nonetheless. And Luc always believed himself straight. He hadn’t had much experience to be honest – it all came down to a few kisses with girls – but he had never felt any interest toward his own sex. He could tell Mikhail was attractive but that was just stating the facts.

He would make a great friend. (And that was also awesome thing about him, Luc had noticed it earlier – Mikhail didn’t treat anyone with the air of superiority, his subordinates were calling him by a pet name.) But for Luc it would be enough if the Russian had just let him work for himself.

Mikhail had once asked him to steal the car. Maybe he wasn’t hiring a professional thief? Or maybe he simply didn’t want involving his own men near the police station. But Luc assumed the more favorable option and that was giving him hope there was a place for him.

There remained the issue of thinking up some excuse to go to the Russian mobster…


	8. Chapter 8

One morning Lucas woke up and just knew what to do. Maybe the idea came to him in sleep though he didn’t remember dreaming of anything.

Peter was still in bed so Luc got up quietly and prepared the breakfast for the two of them. Peter joined when he was making the coffee.

\- Umm, what smells so good? – the sleepy voice of his roommate came from the kitchen door. Then his friend’s eyes widened as he took in the laid table. - Say, did you do something wrong?

Lucas adopted the wounded expression even as he passed Peter the coffee when the other boy sat down at his usual place.

\- Can’t I just be nice? Why do you always suspect me of some hidden motives?

\- I learned something living with you all these years, - commented Peter but started eating.

Lucas joined him. He waited awhile before speaking up.

\- I thought about finding a job.

Peter coughed and raised his head abruptly.

\- You have a job. We’ve got the restaurant. You were rarely here as of late so you might forgot but ‘Mariposa’ is as much yours as it is mine.

Lucas shifted uneasily.

\- Well, I thought of something more… profitable. It’s not that I don’t appreciate this place, it’s my home after all but- I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life here. Anyway, you are already running it on your own practically. What’s the use of me here?

\- It’s not about usefulness! – Peter took the deep breath to stay calm. – I know it isn’t a life in luxury and it was never enough for you but it is safe. So much safer than your illegal actions from time to time. Maybe the income isn’t that big but does it really matter so much to you? You have a flat to sleep in and a secure work place.  I don’t want you to do something bad and land in a prison or on the street-

\- Like my mother? – asked Luc quietly.

\- I didn’t say that!

\- But that’s what you mea-

\- No! Listen to me for a moment! I… I’m just concerned for you, ok? I don’t want to stop you from achieving something more in your life. It’s just- I’m worrying you are doing it the wrong way. You are smart but you won’t get a high-salary job without university education… - _So it must be something criminal_ , he thought but didn’t want to make accusations. - What job are you talking about?

Lucas knew what he didn’t say out loud. He could read it in the soft brown eyes plainly. _Tell me it isn’t something illegal_. Luckily his face was far more unreadable. That was the reason he always won in poker when they played together.

\- For the trustworthy company, - he answered in a light tone. – Don’t worry so much. It’s just plans for now. I don’t even know if they’ll hire me.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Peter went out later, Luc returned to the room to his hiding place and retrieved the bag full of money still lying there. Peter didn’t touch it of course. It was supposed to be used as a payment if the bullies showed up again but by now Lucas was reasonably sure Mikhail will held his promise of keeping them away. He was also glad a part of the cash wasn’t spent on a cleaning machine Peter was so against of. Luc was going to need the whole price… maybe even more. Lucas himself spent a little on the expensive clubs last month but that wasn’t something he couldn’t fix. He got the bonus money on his account from Mikhail after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Late in the evening he went to Matt’s place. The light was still lit in the workshop and through the window Luc could saw the figure of his friend bent over some hood-lifted car. The repair shop was closed at the hour and his older friend was alone. Perfect.

Ignoring the hung panel that stated ‘closed’, Luc opened the door and walked inside. Matt glanced over his shoulder but didn’t break his work seeing it was Luc.

\- What brings you here? – he asked screwing something in the engine.

Luc didn’t answer, wanting his full attention while presenting his proposition and he knew, from experience, he won’t get any when Matt worked with the cars. He put down the bag and waited for Matt to finish. Finally the other man straightened and wiped his face, smearing the grease upon his forehead.

\- Now it should work nicely. Can you check? – he addressed Luc. – Get in and start the engine.

Luc approached the car, took the driver’s seat. The key was in ignition already. Luc turned it and the car whirred vigorously. Exceptionally strongly for this particular model. The youth laughed seeing a smug expression on Matt’s face and turned off the engine.

\- What did you put there? A tank starter?

\- I’m not giving you my professional secrets, - Matt smiled widely. - So why are you here?

Luc raked a hand over his hair.

\- Remember that car I sold you?

Matt looked at him with more seriousness but his eyes were still merry.

\- You’ve sold me many cars, kid.

\- Yeah, but _that_ car. You know, the flashy Ferrari.

\- What of it? – Matt’s brows furrowed lightly.

\- I want it back, - said Luc. - You didn’t sold it yet, right? – he added hastily at Matt’s widened in consternation eyes.

\- Well… I didn’t sold it _wholly_. It’s not so easy to sell quickly such an expensive car. But I’m not giving it back for free.

\- Of course not. I’ll return you your money… and buy the missing parts. You’ll earn on it.

Matt considered it.

\- I guess I could put it back together… But what’s in it for you? You won’t be riding through the city in a Ferrari. And yet you are willing to pay a higher price for it than what you got when you sold it.

\- Let’s say it’s an investment in my future, - Luc send him a mischievous smile.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A few weeks, few expensive car parts and many hours spend working later Luc was riding _the_ Ferrari again. This time with more care than at the time he had stolen it. It didn’t take him long to reach one of the wealthiest districts of Macao. He got some trouble finding the right house though. He didn’t remember thoroughly that night spent drinking with Mikhail and his men. First there was too much adrenaline from the police chase, later too much alcohol in his head.

Finally he recognized the villa and drove alongside the high fence from white stone to the closed gate. There was small gatehouse and a guard inside. His face was priceless as he saw Luc in the car.

In that moment Luc realized he didn’t exactly know what to say. Luckily he was spared the trouble, the watchman was already opening the gates for him and speaking to the microphone attached to the front of his jacket.

\- Boss, you’ve got to see this- - that was all Luc had registered before the sound of automatic gate made the guard’s words indistinct.

Ferrari went forward and rode upon the graveled driveway. Engine’s rumble reverberated from the high front of the mansion as Luc drew right up to the stairs. He pulled up and saw the door to the villa slam open, few people spilling out, Mikhail first.

The blond man was near the car in an instant, a wide smile on his face, eyes bright with joy. Luc get off the car in time to see Mikhail on the other side of it, hand on the red surface, on his face a look akin to nostalgia. He was caressing the polished layer as one would touch a woman. Some of his people stood aside but Luc paid them no attention. He came closer to Mikhail.

\- Oh how I missed you. I thought I won’t see you again, - the man said and the world spun around Luc for a second before he realized the Russian was actually talking to a car.

Then he didn’t have the time to think anymore for the pair of strong arms embraced him, pressing him to the warm chest.

\- Thank you, - said Mikhail into his arm.

Then he swirled Luc half a turn so he was closer to his car, let go of him and hopped into the Ferrari.

\- Are you going? – he asked looking up at Luc expectantly from his driver’s seat.

\- Uh, yeah..

\- Then get in, what are you waiting for?

Luc did as he was told, Mikhail was already turning the keys and pressing the gas pedal, keeping the gear on neutral mode yet, just listening to the sound the car was making. A stern looking man came to the driver’s side and leaned to Mikhail’s window, speaking something. Mikhail opened his half-closed eyes, tossed his head backward onto a headrest and shot him a disinterested gaze but opened the window.

\- -ere supposed to – the man’s voice flew in as the glass lowered - check the reports from the-

\- Not now, Yuri, - drawled Mikhail. – Don’t be so boring. Work can wait. Don’t you see I got more interesting things to do at the moment?

The other man didn’t look convinced but Mikhail pressed the button to close the window already. He flashed Luc a smile and the next moment the car rushed forward, the speed slammed Luc into a seat. He barely had a time to notice the sour man jumping away from the gravel bursting from beneath the tires, and the house and people in front of it started to grew smaller into a side mirror.

The blond driver slowed only before merging into traffic when he rode from the mansion path into a main road. It still wasn’t slow enough and a few other cars honked at them but Mikhail just laughed, overtaking the vehicles before him already.

Luc decided on fastening the seatbelt. He felt a lot of safer when he was the one driving like a madman. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mikhail but he would felt more confident if the control was in his hands.

\- How I missed it! – announced Mikhail, still smiling. Luc couldn’t help but be affected by his good mood. He smiled himself and relaxed a bit. The man sitting next to him was riding this car at least for months before Luc had stolen it and it did not carry any traces of a car crash.

Mikhail pulled to a halt as the traffic light gleamed red just before them. He reached for the car music player.

\- What the hell? – he murmured after a second. – Did they delete the playlist? What problem did they have with it…

Luc coughed.

\- Actually, it may be a new player.. – he didn’t add out loud: _the previous one was removed and sold_. – The license tables are lacking also…sorry about this. – The plates were the first thing they always get rid of. A thought occurred to him then, - eh, maybe we shouldn’t ride without them? Is it safe?

The light switched to yellow and Mikhail started without waiting till it turn to green.

– I know where police patrols are, - he shrugged. – And they shouldn’t trouble us anyway. Don’t bother with that… Better do something about the music.

So Luc pulled out his phone, studied the radio for a moment before finding out the Bluetooth transmission, then activated it. He slid through his playlist for a moment before choosing a song. Well, Mikhail didn’t say what it should be…

He pressed play and the main motif from Fast and Furious resonated through the car interior. He glanced at the man next to him to gauge his reaction. Mikhail was smirking.

\- What? – snapped Luc.

\- Nothing, - replied Mikhail lightly. – It’s very… suitable.

Then he seemed to get some idea and turned his head from the road to look straight at the passenger. Luc stared back into his blue eyes. The road was straight but they rode with great speed. There were lights ahead of them and Luc couldn’t see the color but he refused to break the eye contact first. Suddenly Mikhail slammed the brake and the car stopped abruptly. Luc felt the sharp tug of the safety belt. Only then he peeked at the lights to see it was red.

He let out a breath, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He looked back to Mikhail and when they eyes met the second time suddenly they both burst out laughing.

\- You are crazy! – called Luc, as they started again, this time with the driver looking at the road ahead.

\- I only gave you what you wanted, - answered Mikhail playfully. – I can read the hints.

The areas passing swiftly behind the window told Luc they were heading to the highway that run alongside the east coast of the city. And soon enough they scampered with the ocean at their right and buildings and more and more frequent hills at their left. The talk flew easily since the Russian had replayed the scene from the movie; they talked about films, cars and films about cars. Luc caught himself thinking it was a nicer conversation than with Peter because there wasn’t a thing Mikhail couldn’t joke about while his roommate was serious most of the time.

They surrounded the whole city and before Luc had really noticed it, they were again at the place where they entered the highway. This time when the hills started, Mikhail left the motorway, choosing one of the highway exits that lead inland.

The Ferrari rode slower, climbing to the higher grounds through steadily narrower roads. They arrived at the viewpoint situated on a mountain, hill rather but high enough to give the breathtaking perspective of the city below. The sunset was near, the sun was already lowered on the west, painting the sky in pinks and oranges.

\- Wow, - was all Luc could muster.

They were still sitting into a car, the panoramic front glass didn’t obscure the sight.

\- It’s one of my favorite places of the city, – said Mikhail. – You’ve never been here? – he sounded a little surprised. -  I thought you were living in Macau since birth.

 Luc wasn’t sure he told him this or the mobster had read it from the folder he got about Luc at their first encounter, but he found that he didn’t really care at the moment.

\- Yeah, that’s true. But in that district, - he waved vaguely toward one of the suburbs. – I rather watched the city from below than been above it.

They felt silent for a moment. Perhaps Mikhail didn’t want to cut him off but Luc wasn’t in a mood to talk about his childhood. He watched instead in silence as the sun sunk beneath the horizon and the city’s lights illuminated the night. He saw the distant ribbon of the long bridge that connected the island to the continent.

 - Let me work for you, - he said suddenly, surprising his companion with the seemingly abrupt request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for ending in such a moment, I will pick up the storyline directly from here in the next chapter.
> 
> I didn’t suspect it would take so many words when I started writing this fragment but now when I look at it I think it’s sufficiently long to post it and you’ve waited ages already for the update so here you are.


	9. Chapter 9

At first Mikhail seemed startled with Luc’s words, then his lips curled. Luc saw how his shoulders trembled slightly before he started to laugh. The uncontrollable giggle wasn’t a reaction Luc had expected. He frowned his brows, feeling a surge of anger inside. Maybe he was just a kid for Mikhail but the man didn’t have to belittle his offer in such a way. He had spent quite some time thinking about it, considering all pros and cons. He was about to ask what exactly was so amusing when Mikhail spoke up first.

\- Why? – was all he said, still amused.

\- Err, you used my… skills ones and you seemed satisfied with the job. So I thought if you’d sometime needed some other car smuggled-

\- I’m not questioning your talent. And yes, I could use a thief for a full-time job, - he snorted, apparently finding the phrase amusing. - After you’d brought me that car, - his fingers caressed the wheel, brushed the horse printed in the middle, - I could hire you at once. What I’m interested in is why do you want that?

That in turn surprised Luc. How could anybody not want that? He felt the weight of the gaze of the blue eyes upon himself: clear, still bright with joy and at the same time searching. He looked straight at them and answered honestly.

 - I can see the way you and your men live, the clothes you wear, the money you owe. You’ve got power and respect. I want that too. Why is it so funny? – he added when the smile kept not disappearing from Russian’s face.

\- Oh, it isn’t, - said Mikhail, his words at odds with his smiling expression. – It’s reasonable. Well, at least for me. Some people argue about my sanity though. Do you see this city? – he asked as if it was perfectly logical line with the rest of his speech.

Luc admired the lights of the city waking up for the night life from some time now. Multicolor neons flickered all the more distinctly with quickly fading natural light. In a moment Macau will be even brighter and more colorful than during the day.

\- These two casinos, - continued Mikhail pointing the buildings with his hand, - they’re mine. I’m working on getting that one too. If you are with me, I can give you the world. There is nothing we can’t get. Where money isn’t enough, we have other influence. Life is full of fun and pleasure, you can have everything and everyone. But there is also a danger.

Luc, eyes brighter with every word that fell from Mikhail’s lips, that expressed his every dream, snorted at that.

\- Do you really think I fear cops? We played cat and mouse a few times already. They’ve never caught me.

\- I’m not talking about them, - Mikhail was a bit more serious at last. – You’re smart, Lucas. You saw people around me. They’d captured you and beat you on the first meeting. Some other may not stop at leaving you a little bruised.

Luc was about to interrupt but Mikhail stopped him.

\- I’m not sure you know what exactly you want to join in. It’s far easier to step into that than to resign. There is no going back. If you got enough, there is no simple retirement.

\- I don’t want to go back, - said Luc firmly. – All my life I wanted to get on the top. I spent my childhood on the street, I stole food and pickpocketed from my youngest years. My mother died a few years ago, I never knew my father. I have nothing and no one to get back to. – Peter’s worried face flashed in his mind and Luc felt obliged to add, - Recently it wasn’t so bad. I’ve got a flat and a low paid job but the thing is, it was never enough. I always wanted more. I don’t want people to look down at me only because they are rich and I’m not.

He stopped, conscious of Mikhail’s attention on him and of how much he had said about himself. But then the Russian’s smile was back and Luc felt his agitation receding.

\- Then you’re hired, - announced the blonde man.

\- Just like that?

Mikhail’s smile turned wicked.

\- You wanted some ritual of admittance? Oaths, pacts signed with your blood?

\- No, I didn’t mean- - Luc could feel his chicks growing red.

Mikhail just kept smiling blazingly at him. For one crazy moment Luc wondered how the other man would react if he were to kiss him right now. But then Mikhail said:

\- Let’s head back,

and the magic bubble shuttered.

 

* * *

 

 

They parked in front of Arbatov’s residence in Macau and entered the mansion together. Luc still laughed from some joke Mikhail told him along the way here. They walked side by side, close enough for their shoulder to brush from time to time. Luc felt content and at ease, like everything was on its place, like his life was heading in the right direction finally.

In the hall, behind the bar stood just one woman Luc didn’t see there before. He wouldn’t probably see her even now, absorbed in the man next to him to the point he almost didn’t register other people around him; but she came out of her place to meet them.

\- Inka! When did you get back? – Mikhail exclaimed and before she had a chance to say anything, he was on her, pulling her in an embrace which she returned enthusiastically.

\- Just now. An hour or so ago my plane landed. Surely you didn’t think I would return just before the wedding? – she giggled in his shoulder. – Someone responsible has to keep an eye on you boys.

Lucas watched the scene with a beginning of an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was superfluous here. Mikhail finally let go of the girl. Or woman rather, she was probably older than Luc.

\- Why didn’t you tell you’ll arrive? Did Ivan know?

\- No.- She shook her head and the brown tail of curly hair fall across her shoulder. - He still doesn’t. Let him have a surprise.

\- Were it any other man I’d thought you’re checking on him. But Ivan is helpless, I barely convinced him he can’t marry without a proper bachelor party before.

\- Helpless? Honorable you wanted to say. He’s-

She was about to go on about her probable-fiancé but Mikhail intervened.

\- Inka, you have to meet someone, - he stepped a little aside and gestured for Luc to come closer to them. Luc did. – This is Lucas, our newest member. Lucas, this is Irine. Soon to be Irine Sokolow. She is gorgeous except for her taste in men. We still don’t understand why such a lady choose our solemn Ivan.

\- Nice to meet you, Lucas, - she stretched out her hand to Lucas, ignoring Mikhail’s teasing rant. When she smiled at him, Luc thought she had the nicest eyes he had ever seen.

\- Nice to meet you too, - he said, shaking her hand gently. Her grip was surprisingly firm for her built; she was shorter than Lucas. – Uh, congratulate soon wedding I guess?

\- You guess right, let’s drink for it, - put in Mikhail, speaking over her thanks. – Inka, the same as usual? Lucas, what would you like? – the Russian already had a vodka bottle in hand, pulled from underneath the bar.

\- Actually I’ll pass, - Irine said.

\- I probably shouldn’t either, - speaking Luc realized the truth of his words. – I have to ride home yet.

\- Nonsense, you gonna stay here. There is enough rooms. Working for me has its bonuses, - he winked at the youth, pouring him a glass of vodka. – You don’t have to stay in that tiny flat of yours. And what’s your excuse? – he turned to Irine without giving Luc any time to protest.

Luc accepted the drink resigned, figuring he can always take a taxi.

\- I drank my fill in a plane.

\- Couldn’t tell by looking at you, - noticed Luc before he could bite his tongue.

\- Do not underestimate her strong head, - warned Mikhail mock-seriously. – Don’t let yourself be dragged in any drinking contest with her unless you want huge hangover the next day. She just look so innocent but in truth she’s worse than many of the men in here.

She reached out to punch him in the arm over the bar but he stepped back, pouring her a glass of orange juice. Luc was amazed he manage this without spilling anything. A ridiculous thought crossed his mind that Peter would be delighted to hire a waiter like that and he almost laughed out loud.

\- What’s so funny? – Mikhail caught his smile.

\- You’d make a wonderful waiter, - he blurted, half surprising himself by telling what was on his mind. Maybe the friendly, open atmosphere between these two was responsible for that.

Irine laughed out loud, Mikhail pretended to be offended.

\- A waiter? I would be world first class bartender. – The blonde send them their drinks, juice for Irine and vodka shot for Lucac and himself.

\- Lucas is right, - said Irine, seeping her beverage. – You’d be soon bored standing by the bar all night but as a waiter, in an impeccable smoking, circling the tables, you could charm all the people there.

\- So what will we drink for first? – said Mikhail, amused. – Inka’s wedding, Lucas joining us or my waiter career prospects?

\- Ladies first, - said Lucas, feeling more and more convinced that Mikhail proposition of staying here wasn’t that bad.

He clinked his glass with Mikhail’s and emptied the shot in one swallow wincing and shuddering at the taste and burn of this. Irine shoved him her juice raising her eyebrow in offer. Lucas shook his head.

\- First one without a chaser, - he said hoarsely.

The girl laughed again.

\- I see you’ve drank with them already.

Mikhail poured them another go.

\- How was your journey? – he asked the woman. – What’s up in home?

\- Nothing new. Old enemies fight, old friends keep their alliances. But I’ve got some news for you from Tokyo.

\- You were in Tokyo? – he asked surprised.

\- I didn’t have a direct fly from Moscow, - she dismissed the question annoyed. -  Keep quiet and listen. Believe me you don’t want to interrupt me. It seems your beautiful dragon fly out of his hide all the way to Japan. Got shot there. Some business with Asami, rumor has it.

\- Shot? – Luc stared at Mikhail’s alarmed face not even trying to keep his examination subtle. The Russian was all focused on Irine anyway or rather on her words. Luc had never seen him so serious and tense. – Has he… died?

\- He’s just hurt. I think. I don’t know for sure but I suppose there would be louder commotion otherwise. Was he dead, you’d already heard of it by now. Where are you going? – she asked as Mikhail stepped off the bar, drinks completely forgotten.

\- I need to… check on him.

He started toward the doors.

\- How? Excuse me, but what are you going to do? – called Irine over her shoulder but Mikhail was already out.

Luc fought to not let his jaw drop.

\- What was that?

\- That was Fei Long, - Irine explained with a sigh. – Misha’s always like that when it comes to that guy. It’s cute in its own way but sometimes I wonder if it’s healthy for him or good for us all. Our organization I mean. Which it seems you’re a part of now so let’s drink for it, - she raised her orange juice in toast.

Luc found his words at least.

\- Shouldn’t we.. wait for him or something?

\- I wouldn’t count that we’ll see him tonight yet. It’s why I didn’t tell him at once. I knew he’ll be like that once he hears the news and wanted to spent some time with him beforehand.

\- You seem to know him well, - Luc studied her.

She smiled. Her smile, too, was nice.

\- We’re something like friends from childhood. Our fathers knew each other well.

\- So you’re, eh, close? – only after saying that Luc realized it probably wasn’t the smartest line to say to a soon-be-bride.

Something gleamed in her eyes.

\- Are you jealous? – she asked playfully.

\- No. No, of course not. From where that idea? Why would I be?

\- You tell me.

\- I’m not, - denied Lucas once more, not liking at all her knowing expression.

\- Okay, - she said softly. – But in any case, it’s not me you should be jealous about. But seriously, you should probably drink that, - she indicated his shot. – Warm vodka is awful.

\- Cold isn’t so good either.

She giggled.

\- Truth. But vodka isn’t there to taste. It’s to beat the hell out of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, another drinking round. I just can't resist some stereotypes in my works.
> 
> What do you think about my new OC?
> 
> And don't worry, in the next chapter, the story will catch up with manga :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally events from the manga! Enjoy.

MACAU, ARBATOV’S MANSION, 2:21 AM

As soon as he was off Inka’s eyesight, Mikhail almost run up the stairs. With quick steps he crossed the corridor, opening the doors that led to the study. Yuri wasn’t there anymore, probably had given up on the idea his nephew would return to paper work. And he wasn’t wrong. Mikhail had always preferred to leave that part to his people, finding it enormously boring himself. But tonight was different, Fei Long’s life might be at stake.

He had to make sure the Baishe’s leader was alive. It was a shame the reports from the man he put in there stopped coming. The mole had been silent for some time now, he probably got killed… but Fei Long was more important now. Does he still live? Inka said he were shot and hurt, not dead.

Mikhail started the research from the general news in the internet. Public media kept silent in the matter, the incident wasn’t even mentioned. Fei Long’s people did excellent job at covering up but that probably also meant the shot wasn’t lethal. No one was so good as to hide the fact of triad leader’s death.

Ok, let’s assume he really was just injured. So where to find him? If the wound was serious they could took him to the hospital. It surely wouldn’t hurt to check them anyway.  Mikhail reached for his phone and picked the right contact.

\- What now? – the unpleasant voice sounded after the few signals.

\- So rude for your benefactor, - answered Misha with mock scorn. – Here I am, giving you the chance to pay off your debt and you greet me with such poor manners. You remember our little agreement, right? We did something for you, you will have to do something in return.

From the phone came only a nonverbal grunt which Mikhail acknowledged as the volition to listen on. It was probably the best sign of enthusiasm he would get from the other man.

\- So I have a task for you. Fulfill it and we’ll call it even.

\- …What do you want?

\- Finally you start talking sensibly, - praised Mikhail. – I need you to check the hospitals in Hong-Kong and the area. – Hong-Kong was the obvious choice. No idiot would remain on enemy’s territory when shot and weakened. – Search for gunshot wounds from the last 72 hours. I would give you the name but he probably used fake identity.

One hour later, one contact poorer and not much knowledge richer Mikhail still wondered what he should do. No one shot reached the Hong-Kong hospitals in near past. That had its pluses and minuses. Fei Long didn’t want publicity and that could – Mikhail certainly hoped it did – mean the beautiful Chinese wasn’t hurt very badly. He probably decided to use the services of his private doctor or someone like that.

The thing that irked on him was the lack of a concrete information. After few hours of research he knew little more than on the beginning, he just filtered off some of the options. Fei Long wasn’t, _couldn’t be_ , dead; Fei Long wasn’t in a hospital. As the next possibility, it left residence where Baishe’s headquarters were situated. It really was a shame his mole wasn’t there anymore, sending a fill up on the current situation. He must had been caught and killed. Mikhail wasn’t very sorry about it, Jiang wasn’t even one of them yet, it was just someone who wanted to join their organization and in order to do so had to prove his usefulness. Mikhail barely knew him but his death was a nuisance. If the man still lived and worked, the Russian would spare much time and effort by simply asking him about Fei Long’s whereabouts and the state of health. Moreover now it will be very difficult to replace Jiang’s position by someone new; people from Baishe will be doubly suspicious of the newcomers.

Finally Mikhail decided he had to see for himself how Fei Long was feeling. Only now a thought occurred to him that it would be helpful to have some excuse of going straight to Baishe’s headquarters other than asking their leader how was he.

 

* * *

 

 

MACAU BUSINESS DISTRICT, 3:37 AM

The phone rang on her bed, just beside her head. Laela rolled over, away from the obtrusive noise. It didn’t help much, the sound still attacked her senses with the tireless persistence of the machine. She reached blindly for the source of the noise – she could swear the alarm waked her up earlier every day – and finally took hold of the device.

After a little failed fumbling, she cracked one eye open to find and use the nap function. As always, the screen blinded her momentarily. When she stopped blinking rapidly, she saw she was mistaken. That was a phone call, not clock alarm.

She rubbed her eyes and raised a little on her pillows, reasonable consciousness fighting over the remnants of the dreams. Laela slid the finger over the screen and put the phone to her ear.

\- St. George Partnership, - she answered automatically with the line that became her habit after the few years of work in the law company, kicking herself in mind a moment later.

\- Such an official start, - the amused man’s voice said. – Does that mean you work already and I didn’t wake you up, darling?

\- Arbatov, - she gritted, – do you know what the hour is? – and glanced at the electronic clock herself to make sure it was as early as she felt.

\- I’m sorry to disturb your sleeping beauty rest then, but it’s urgent. Do you maybe have that documents I instructed you to prepare ready?

It took her a second longer than usually to understand what was he talking about.

\- Almost… but the set date was in the next week, - she still didn’t quite grasp his purpose in all of this.

\- Yeah, but you see, circumstances changed. Could you send them to me now? For additional bonus to the price of course.

She sat up straight on the bed, swiping her hair out of her face. The request didn’t seem satisfactory in the least right now but she knew it would be worth it later. Besides she couldn’t afford to lose her best client.

\- Yes, - she said finally. – I think I can do that. Just give me two hours, ok?

After getting the consent, she sprang out of bed, turning on her laptop and switching on the boiling pot. One and half an hour later, Laela, drinking coffee and with reddened eyes, was finishing off the offer of purchase, complete with her proposal list of some changes that would make the offer more profitable for her client.

 

* * *

 

 

MACAU, ARBATOV’S MANSION, 5:57 AM

\- Dimitri, hey, you asleep? – asked Mikhail, shaking lightly the figure of his second degree uncle-in-law.

\- Wha- Whas up? - murmured the man.

\- I need you to get me to Hong-Kong.

\- Hmm, now? Ask Abram. I don’t fly at this hour. My day starts at 10 am.

\- Abram’s drank. It has to be you, no one else has pilot’s license. Get up.

 

* * *

 

Mikhail stood near the hangar, clad in a white suit, with his hair styled in perfect waves, diamonds in his ears and smelling with his best cologne water. He had considered a bouquet of flowers also but dismissed the idea as too cliché. It would be as visiting a patient in a hospital and Fei Long surely wouldn’t appreciate making him weaker in the eyes of his people. So Mikhail had only a pile of documents under his arm, containing the offer of purchase the “Royal Dragon”*.

He didn’t have the time to read all the papers yet but he will look through them in the private plane. He did trust Laela but one can never be too careful in business. If something was not to his liking he will hand the documents with annotation it’s just an initial offer, open for negotiations.

Dimitri finally started the plane, drove the machine from the hangar and waited for Misha to get in. When the plane was raising up the sky, Mikhail sat already on a cream colored skin upholstery and sorted through the papers.

The main offer was exactly what he ordered. He liked it in Laela that she always did what he wanted with his law affairs and didn’t question him. Maybe she suspected something about the origin of his money (though only legal business reached her) but she never openly went against him. Maybe she appreciated the salary. Maybe it was just professional discretion from her side.

Laela sometimes made it clear her ideas were better but always proposed it to him and consulted it with him and only then, if he had agreed, put them into practice.

Mikhail smiled now when he noticed the added leaflet with pointed ideas of how to make the offer more profitable to him. it was understandable from sheer financial perspective. Mikhail’s offer was generous to the point of extravagance. But the offer was for Fei Long and Fei Long deserved only the best. He deserved the whole world. Mikhail wouldn’t refuse him anything. Laela, with her loads of common sense, would never even consider something like that. She was surprisingly little romantic for a woman. But her work was good, as always, reflected Mikhail, he would have to transfer her money today…

 

* * *

 

 

HONG-KONG, BAISHE’S HEADQUARTERS, 6:30 AM

 

\- Stop right there!

Mikhail walked straight ahead, hands in his pockets, totally ignoring the guns pointed his way. They all aimed at him but none of them fired. That meant Fei Long forbid them from shooting him and Mikhail’s soul sang with that knowledge. Maybe the Chinese wasn’t as cold toward him as he pretended to be any time they’ve met.

\- You can’t come in here without an invitation!

Mikhail didn’t spare any more attention on their voiced protests than he gave it to their weapons. He continued to walk where the most bodyguards were located, hoping Fei Long would be there, well-guarded, sound and safe.

And then he heard this one voice, softer and quieter than the rest but with much more authority in it. That one voice that silenced the other’s shouts in a moment.

\- Mikhail Arbatov…

His own name never sounded as beautiful as it did when _he_ spoked it.

\- …why have you come here? Do you think we won’t harm you?

He was there, beautiful as always, maybe a little paler. He sat in the armchair and didn’t have injury in any visible place but then he was suited up to the collar. In one of those traditional Chinese outfit, emphasizing his beauty.

If he truly wanted Mikhail dead, the Russian would be dead by now. Though his words did stung a little bit. Like he didn’t believe in Mikhail’s good intentions toward him.

\- Don’t be so tasty… I only came today to see how were you doing, - Mikhail told him. – After all, I heard that the Hong Kong Triad leader foolishly got himself shot while going up against Asami…

At the mention of that name Fei Long lost a bit of his composure, his mouth curled in a grimace and his glance turned vicious. Mikhail didn’t know why it provoked such a reaction but the view of angry Fei Long was breathtaking, beautiful in its own savage way. It was alluring, even when Fei Long’s next words were deliberately more hurtful.

\- Well, you’ve wasted your time, - hissed Baishe’s leader. – The wound is not as bad as you probably hoped.

So he was wounded. Mikhail had to know more.

\- I heard you went all the way to Japan on your own and got shot… - he paused but Fei Long’s wasn’t taking the bait. Mikhail pushed further, - All this just to get rid of one man… isn’t it a little rush? If you’re acting like that, it must be worrying your subordinates.

Fei Long looked away from him, pretending a sudden interest in the document before him,  like he wanted to hide his feelings. He paid Mikhail with his own coin though in their conversation.

\- You’re also unfortunate in having lost an exceptional subordinate, Arbatov.

Ah, so Jiang died. A pity. But it still was a poor try of changing the topic from Fei Long’s side. Mikhail sighed and approached Fei Long’s chair, putting his adorned with rings hand on the backrest, inches away from Fei Long’s head.

\- Fei Long… - he started, - I’m fine with you guys eliminating each other, but it would be a waste for you to lose all that power. If you’re not careful, that Japanese man will take everything that is good from you.

Mikhail stood just behind his back, the satin waterfall of Fei Long’s hair was so close he could touch it. He was tempted to do so but wouldn’t go this far without Fei Long’s permission. He couldn’t resist the idea of smelling it though, so he leaned down to whisper the rest of what he had to say. Lotus, he thought absent mindedly.

\- Use this situation and give us the rights to ‘that’ thing we discussed before, in Macau, - Fei Long tilted his head delicately in Mikhail’s side, interested. -  I don’t want to see your beautiful face twisted in pain, - the Russian breathed the last sentence to Fei Long’s ear.

Fei Long smiled a little.

\- Please pass all the business matters to my people downstairs. I will consider them once I’ve received their report. I thank you for visiting.

Mikhail straightened, wondering if Fei Long’s dismissal was meant as another affront or if he was genuinely tired with all the commotion. The latter was more probable because it was not in Fei Long’s character to leave the paper work entirely to his men. It could be both of course.

Anyway, it gave the perfect chance to get a close look at the mood prevailing in Baishe. The men he passed by going downstairs ceased talking at his sight of course. He was an outsider to them. And his Chinese wasn’t perfect. But judging from the tone of the talks and their worried expressions, Fei Long’s men were concerned by the latest events. It was understandable giving their leader’s condition but Mikhail feared some might whisper about the state of Fei Long’s mind and his reasons behind his actions rather than his physical wound, which, at the hasty look, wasn’t a lethal one.

Some gloom looking man, creeping against the wall to that time tried to approach him, but somebody else stopped him, speaking something short and quick in Chinese to him Mikhail failed to catch but it must had been something none too nice. The sullen man remained on his position only glaring at the back of his interlocutor as the man walked to Mikhail. He was in his mid-age and wore glasses.

\- Good morning, - his bow was almost non-existent so Mikhail didn’t bother to return it. – My name is Chen Fang and I was sent to discuss the financial matters with you.

Mikhail glanced behind his back where the grim man still supported the wall. His indifferent posture of totally-not-listening convinced Mikhail eavesdropping was exactly what he did. Too bad for him Mikhail wasn’t planning on elaborating the offer.

\- There is little to discuss, - he said. – Here are all the details of my offer, - he handed the glassed man, what was his name?, the folder prepared by Laela. Without her list of proposals of course.

Business was boring and if it wasn’t Fei Long who was going to discuss it with him, he could as well just leave all the documents for them to read.

\- Read it somewhere privately and you’ll see it’s a reasonable course of action for your leader.

He left the man with the paper work and walked outside, this time not accompanied by gun barrels pointed his way. Dimitri waited where he had left him, now apparently quarreling with some of Fei Long’s men. His distant uncle seemed to relax when he saw his leader approaching.

\- What’s the problem? – asked him Mikhail in Russian, not really concerned with it.

Dimitri dropped his cigarette, trampled it and spread his hands.

\- How should I know? I understand one to ten words of what they’re saying. I guess they want me to leave their airstrip. We’re going away now, happy? – he addressed the two bodyguards in an awful Chinese.

They seemed to get the meaning nonetheless and stepped back. Mikhail chuckled.

\- I think you used the verb that could mean we’re gonna die or something similar. They seem pretty reconciled with the concept though.

 

* * *

 

 

HONG-KONG AIRSPACE, 8:19 AM

\- You seem happy, - commented Dimitri from the pilot’s cabin. - Did you buy this casino? Tell me something good has turned out from waking me in the middle of the night…

\- No, - grinned Mikhail, - but it doesn’t matter. Fei is alive.

 

* * *

 

 

MACAU, ARBATOV’S MANSION, 8:53 AM

Mikhail entered the house and heard raised voices at once. One was Yuri’s and the other belonged to someone young… Damn it, he had forgot about the kid completely.

\- …as I already told you, - Lucas was saying. – I work for him.

\- Quit joking, kid. Better get out of here before my patience wears off.

\- Mikhail said-

\- That’s Mr. Arbatov to you. And he’s not even here. Listen carefully now, I don’t care if he offered you a long-term job. I hate male sluts like you and none of you would live under the same roof that I live.

Mikhail saw the scene when he reached the room they were in. They stood against each other, arguing, attracting the small audience already. They were too absorbed in the quarrel to notice him at once.

\- I’m not a slut!

\- I don’t care how you call it. But if you try to seduce him anywhere near me, you’ll regret it.

Yuri looked pissed. Lucas was really brave or really stupid to pick up a fight with him. Or the lack of information was at fault. Seeing Yuri’s look, Mikhail decided to step in before his uncle reaches for a gun. He went straight to them, sneaking an arm around Lucas shoulders. The boy jumped surprised at the contact but then turned and saw him and relaxed into his touch.

\- Yuri, leave the boy alone, - he said to his uncle. – He’s one of us now, - he squeezed Lucas’ arm protectively, keeping his attention on Yuri. – I forgot to mention it earlier.

\- One of us?! Are you serious?

 _That’s not going to work_. Mikhail raised his hand, hushing him and looked around his gathered people.

\- Vanya, - he called. Then he remembered Inka.

\- Yeah? – the man stepped closer.

\- Aren’t you with your fiancée?

\- Irina went to choose the wedding dress. I’m all but banned from her presence today. She categorically forbid it.

Mikhail smirked.

\- Good. Could you keep Lucas company for a moment then? Yuri and I have to talk.

\- Sure thing.

Mikhail let go of the boy who obviously regained his voice now.

\- I don’t need a babysitter.

\- Go with him, - he said to the kid, pushing Lucas away and concentrating on Yurij. – And you come with me, uncle.

They went to the smaller room, Yurij half a step behind him in the corridor. His uncle closed the door and stood at them with his hands crossed, Mikhail threw himself on a chair watching with amusement the grievous expression of his relative.

\- Did you really hire him? – asked Yuri at least.

\- Yes, - answered Mikhail simply.

Yuri looked appalled.

\- Have you lost your mind? He’s not from family. Hell, he’s not even Russian!

\- Don’t be so narrow-minded. He’s from the street but thanks to that he knows Macau better than any of us.

\- He’s a total stranger. Does it occur to you he might work for FSB?

\- Now, that’s a paranoia, Yuri. They don’t hire kids! And I think even they are smarter than to order their mole start with stealing my car.

Yurij didn’t seem entirely convinced.

\- Chill out, uncle. I didn’t even officially made him a member of the organization. He knows nothing so he can’t expose us even if that were his plans. But I’m pretty sure he just wants to climb out of his social background. Let him have his fun and help us, he can be useful, he had proven it already. It’s beneficial for both sides.

\- So… he’d work as..?

\- He’s a thief, - Mikhail laughed. – From pick-pocketing to stealing cars. Full service.

\- And you didn’t sign him into the organization? – Yuri’s posture relaxed slightly.

\- Treat him like an associate. Give him errands but don’t tell him anything important. And, - added Mikhail with a playful grin, - don’t mention his position to him. I might have led him to believe he’s a full right member. Don’t ruin this image, he’ll come to it eventually.

Finally Yurij smiled himself and walked closer to Mikhail.

\- You little devil, - he said, a note of fondness entering his voice as he ruffled Mikhail’s hair slightly.

\- Give me more credits sometimes, uncle.

\- I thought he’s… you know.

\- Well, he’s cute. Would be a waste to turn him down if it comes to that, - he winked to the older man, snickering when Yurij snatched back his hand as if burned and his face twisted into grimace of disgust once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * did this casino they were all so crazy fighting about has some name? I can't find it. If someone of you remember, please let me know and I'll change it.
> 
> If somebody is still reading this , please tell me what you think. Which part you like which part you don't and why?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because boys playing with their toys are always adorable, no matter their age ;)

The guy had freckles and reddish blond hair, his smile was probably nice but Lucas wasn’t in the mood to make jokes or have fun. He followed the man sullenly outside, turning his head once to see Mikhail disappearing in the corridor with Yuri by his side.

\- Hey, don’t make such a long face, - said the man Mikhail ordered to go with him, nudging Luc slightly in the arm. – Do you want to talk about it?

\- You don’t have to babysit me, I can take care of myself.

\- Really? Seeing you pissing off Yurij there tells me otherwise. It wasn’t very smart of you.

\- It wasn’t me who started it! – exploded Luc. – Yesterday Mikhail brought me here but then he disappeared so I went back home and came back in the morning to see if I’m needed or something, - Luc paused to take a breath. – And as I come in today, this guy just attacked me for nothing! I didn’t even look at him the wrong way. Just asked about Mikhail.

They walked alongside the swimming pool, the sun shined as if to mock him.

The man walking next to him was silent, waiting for Luc to spill it all out. There was something about him that inspired confession, like he really could listen to you. Moreover Luc was pissed right now and shouting about Yurij to anyone seemed like a good idea.

\- You know… - started the man when Luc run out of words, - it wasn’t really your fault. It’s just Yurij’s character. He’s not so bad once you know him closer but he doesn’t trust the newcomers easily.

\- Doesn’t _trust_? That’s an understatement! He looked like he wanted to beat the hell out of me. He called me a slut!

\- Well, you aren’t that ugly…

Lucas shot him a vicious look and the man dropped this line. There was something familiar about him.

\- Anyway, don’t trouble yourself with it. It’s not you, it’s him. He’s just, let’s say, suspicious of the pretty men around Misha.

\- I’m not that kind of guy! – shouted Lucas, red on the face from anger and shame, attracting the curious looks from the few ladies resting by the pool. Their interest only made things worse.

\- I never said you were, - said the man calmly, not even a bit agitated. That too, was familiar. Luc tried to figure out from where he knows him.

\- Let’s go somewhere else, - added the man, seeing girls’ faces turned their way.

\- What for? – asked Luc, still pouting.

\- I’ll show you something. I think you should like it.

Luc went with him, the thought that he knows him still nagging at him.

\- Have we met already? – he asked eventually, giving up.

The red head smiled.

\- I was on the party on which you boasted about the stolen car. Nice job, by the way. I didn’t think you’ll remember. Impressive, considering how drunk you’ve been.

Luc remembered finally.

\- Ivan! – he said ignoring the part about being drunk.

\- That’s me.

\- But… hasn’t just Mikhail called you ‘Vanya’?

\- Yes. It’s a shortage.

Luc frowned his brows.

\- A nickname, you mean? – he asked to clarify. Maybe Ivan’s English wasn’t as good as it sounded at first…

\- A shortage, - repeated Ivan, shaking his head.

Luc stopped in his tracks.

\- How do you make one from the other? Ivan and Vanya? That’s like two completely different names! I can understand Misha from Mikhail but how on earth did you get Vanya from Ivan?

\- It’s quite easy, - explained Ivan patiently. – You take the first letter off the full name and add the endearing suffix to what you have left.

Luc tried to put it together in his head.

\- Let’s go, - urged him Ivan and they went on.

 

* * *

 

 

At the same time, on the second floor of the villa, Mikhail sprung up from the chair and rush to the window to see what’s happening, ignoring Yurij’s shout.

\- Misha, don’t!

Mikhail looked through the glass to see Vanya below showing off his new toy to Lucas.

\- You shouldn’t do this, - told him Yuri, stopping just behind his back. – You expose yourself to the danger this way, it’s unreasonable.

\- Boys are just having fun. And what could have happen here? Guards are out there.

\- It was still risky to run like that to the window upon hearing gunshots. One never knows.

\- You worry too much, Yuri, - Mikhail turned and walked passed him, squeezing his arm in the passage.

Yurij stayed there, glancing down at the new boy with steel in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

\- Oh shit, it shoots! – Luc cried to Ivan as if the man didn’t know it. – How did you make it shoot?

That was better than anything he saw in Matt’s workshop and his friend could make miracles with cars.

\- It’s quite simple, actually. – Ivan led the drone carefully to sat it at their feet. – I just attached two small guns here and here, - he showed the said weapon to Luc, pulling up the machine in his hands.

Luc leaned over the drone to see everything clearly.

\- This part pulls at the triggers as I push this button. I only remodeled slightly what was primary responsible for shooting photos.

Luc cannot help but admire the truthfully simple and yet clever work.

\- Do you want to try yourself? – asked Ivan.

\- Who wouldn’t?

Luc practically pulled the drone from Ivan’s hands, set it on the ground and examined the control joystick. Then he turned on the motor, causing two pair of wings into spiral movements. He started the drone, mirroring the gestures he saw Ivan doing and subsequently trying to understand all the functions the joystick had.

When he felt he knew how to steer it left and right, back and forth, he pushed the one button he craved to use from the start. The machine shoot off the series of bullets.

Luc, grinning like a madman, pulled the drone to where they were standing again.

\- Shall we stand some targets? – proposed Ivan.

\- Like what?

\- I don’t know, empty bottles or cans.

Soon they made up the whole obstacle course and before Luc had the time to ponder it, he was having a great fun, the incident with Yurij completely forgotten.

He didn’t even noticed when the third person joined them, leaning against the wall of the building casually and observing them with a smile.

Luc concentrated on his task but managed only to shoot two bottles from all the ten targets. Then Ivan took over and shot to pieces the rest of them.

\- I think Vanya won.

Luc whirled around to see Mikhail lounging in the shadow near the wall.

\- You shot terribly, Lucas. We’d have to do something about it.

\- He’ll learn, it’s his first try, - noted Ivan.

\- I got two targets! – argued Luc.

\- Out of ten, - pointed Mikhail. – Go stand the obstacles again, I wanna have some fun too.

Lucas did as he was told, then returned at Mikhail’s side where the Russian took up the device already. The drone fled above their temporary war field. Mikhail missed the first target but then corrected the aim and knocked off the rest of them.

\- Looks like I’m still the winner, - noticed Ivan when Mikhail was done.

\- Let’s do a rematch, - proposed the blonde. – With higher stakes this time.

\- Hazard? Irine wouldn’t like that.

Mikhail made a face at Lucas out of Ivan’s sight.

\- Lucas, never marry. Looks what it does with a man, henpecked even before the official ceremony. But I didn’t mean money, - he added, - so you can’t exactly call it hazard.

Ivan sighed.

\- What then?

Mikhail beamed and stated his proposal. Lucas went paler with every word.

\- We’d take turns in going there and stand with the can in each hand. The opponent shots, trying not to hurt the human rack. We could make count like minus two points for each lost finger, plus ten for shooting the can.

Lucas could hardly believe in what he was hearing, the blond spoke it like it was completely normal. Ivan listened like he actually considered it. Luc hoped the crazy idea concerned just the two of them but if they proposed it to him also… He couldn’t be a coward in their eyes and their aim was perfect yet he still wasn’t sure if he was willing to take even that 10 percent chance of losing a finger in order to prove himself in their eyes.

So Luc stayed silent, holding his breath in anticipation for Ivan’s answer. He let it out as the man shook his head.

\- You really are crazy, Misha. Play like that with an enemy, not with me. Besides, there is too little spacing between guns, one of us could be shoot!

\- Like I said, you always spoil fun, - answered Mikhail, sounding disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think! Comments are really important for me.


	12. Chapter 12

A flickering lightbulb flashed annoyingly, illuminating the room in leaps. It was a small, unused utility place in the underground of Baishe’s headquarters. Three conspirators stood close to each other, talking in hushed voices, afraid that unasked ears could be eavesdropping their conversation. The punishment for treason was death. One of the men was bald, the other short, the third wear glasses.

\- You said how much he offers? – asked the bald man. His whole demeanor radiated nervousness.

\- Let’s not talk about numbers, - said the man in the glasses with much more composure. – It is enough to notice he offers more than the business is worth.

\- Maybe it’s a trap, - suggested the third man, the short and easy to anger. – Why would he do that?

The bald man scoffed.

\- Pf, are you blind? He’s head over heels in love with the boss.

\- Cease it, - hissed at them the four-eyes. – We aren’t in here to argue.

\- True, - agreed the short man, withholding himself from uttering a snide remark. – Better to think what can turn out from this situation for our benefit.

\- Treason? – whispered one of the men, licking his lips nervously.

\- Don’t use such words! Of course not. It’s lucrative for the boss, isn’t it? We’ll just make sure to convince him to accept it and secure some high provision for us from the deal.

\- You might be right, - drawled his interlocutor thoughtfully. – Besides, it would be unwise to anger the Russians. The relations are already strained after we’d shot off their mole.

\- He got what he deserved, - commented the short guy, lightening up a cigarette.

\- Still it would be unwise to start a war with them, - continued the previous speaker. – These events in Japan on top of that… I don’t want to say it but the boss is losing it.

\- So it seems easy, - said one of the man around his cigarette. – We know where the legal documents are, the Casino’s Operating Rights…

In that moment they heard a sound of running water from the nearest bathroom. The man who was speaking shut up immediately and dropped the cig; all three glanced at themselves uncertainly. There was a sound of the door being closed and the short man darted toward the corridor to see who it was.

\- Hey, you! – he shouted at the figure standing there. – What are you doing there?!

A young blond haired lad, the one their boss had stolen during his latest journey to Tokyo, looked back at the three of them, wide eyed, seeming almost more taken aback by the unexpected meeting  than the conspirators were.

\- Shit, did he heard us? – asked the short one, talking  half to his companions, half to himself. He grabbed the boy not waiting for an answer and dragged him toward the door leading outside. The youth writhed in his grip and cursed at him in Japanese in impressively long stream of words. The other two followed them. Once outside, he hit the kid in the gut, then pushed the whelp toward the wall, sending him rolling onto the pile of rubbish there.

\- Filthy bitch, - yelled the man that manhandled him, working himself up. – Hanging around in the boss’ sleeping quarters every night and now eavesdropping on us!

\- He doesn’t understand Cantonese anyway, - remarked indifferently the man in the glasses, not moving an inch to help the kid.

But the young Japanese didn’t ask for help or beg for mercy. If anything, he seemed pissed off by their treatment even though he probably didn’t understand the reason. Quicker than they could react, he jumped to his feet and lashed out at the main opponent with a swear. He managed to land a blow to his face before the other two grabbed him by the arms.

\- Fucking brat! – the short, angry man swiped away the blood from his face and hit with his fist the defenseless kid in a face. The Japanese slumped somewhat in the grip of the two men after the vicious blow. But the spirit of fight wasn’t out of him yet. He kicked out with his leg and the short Chinese had to step back to avoid the impact. Now he was really mad. Without thinking he grabbed the gun and the fear flashed in his victim’s eyes, finally overcoming the ire. The lad wrench free one of his hands, covering himself automatically.

A man with the gun, though infuriated beyond words, hesitated briefly upon seeing the boss’ tattoo on the brat’s wrist.

\- What are you guys doing?! – came a new voice from the direction of the door. Yoh neared quickly on them, taking in the situation. – He’s a prisoner that the boss brought here himself. For your own sake, better don’t do anything to him.

The two that were holding the youth, let go off him none too gently but the kid remained on his feet. The third man concealed the weapon reluctantly.

\- Go get drug up and sold off already, - he said in English to the brat, determined to have the last word at least.

\- Let’s go, - chided him the man in the glasses quietly, the one who spoke the least during their whole encounter and who was the most composed.

The three conspirators went away, leaving Yoh and the Japanese behind.

\- Are you all right, Akihito? – asked Yoh. His voice was cold and emotionless but he swiped the youth with his eyes, making sure there was no severe injury. – Pull yourself together… How did you get the chain off? You shouldn’t wander around, everyone in the organization is pretty irritated lately.

 

* * *

 

 

\- Here, - said Ivan, handing  one bottle of beer to Luc, the other to Mikhail, and sitting next to Luc on the bench. The place next to Luc’s new boss was already occupied by one of the girls that hovered around the villa here and there. As far as Luc noticed they spent most day at the swimming pool, lying on the sunbeds, sipping cocktails, getting suntanned, sometimes actually moving into the water. Luc still wasn’t certain of their status.

\- Thanks, - said Luc, accepting the bottle and shifting to make more space for Ivan. The glass was awesomely cold, the pearls of liquid gathered on its surface. Luc put both hands to it, sighing and closing eyes at the immense pleasure it brought. The day was hot but who could tell playing with the drone may be so tiring physically.

\- Should I open it for you or are plan on just cooling your hands?

Luc opened his eyes immediately at Ivan’s question, catching the amused glance from Mikhail from the opposite side of the table.

\- Sure, - he muttered, feeling stupid and pushing the bottle to Ivan who had the opener.

The girl seated next to Mikhail was in her swimsuit, light hair, tanned skin, pretty. She made no attempt to introduce herself to Luc and seemed to be fully focused on the man next to her. Mikhail from his part mostly ignored her but never once stopped her if she leaned too close for Luc’s liking for example or touched his arm or chest with her palm.

Actually Mikhail looked rather on Luc and the young Macaence wondered if the man was entertaining himself by observing his reactions. But that was impossible, right? Luc wasn’t jealous or anything, he had no reason to be, so why his mien should be funny?

He did what was always the best to avoid the awkward silence: he started to drink his beer. Ivan apparently made some gesture at Mikhail for the Russians’ leader switched his attention on him and answered the unspoken reprimand.

\- What? I’m not even saying anything.

\- Don’t tease him, - said Ivan in Russian.

\- I got a feeling you are talking about me, - remarked Luc.

\- Hah, don’t worry, - chuckled Mikhail, swinging one arm around the girl’s waist and lifting the beer with the other. – Vanya’s just criticizing me, as usual. But hey, you should learn Russian if you don’t wanna feel excluded here.

\- Yeah, I’ll consider it, - muttered Luc not looking at Mikhail’s hand on the girl’s belly.

\- Let’s start with the basics, - continued his boss. – This is _pivo_ , - he indicated the beer, - repeat it.

Luc did so obliquely.

\- Very good, - praised him the blonde and Luc smiled despite himself. He felt ridiculously proud like a child appreciated by its parents.

– How about that? – said Ivan. - _Na zdorovie,_ \- he raised his bottle in a toast.

Luc repeated, accurately in his own opinion. Maybe not so in his companions’ for they both erupted with laughter. Even the girl smiled a little, hiding it quickly by burring her face in Mikhail’s arm.

\- Yuri could teach you, - said Mikhail at least. - He’s quite good at languages.

\- No! – answered Luc too loud and too soon, before Mikhail even had a chance to finish properly.

\- Why? – the blond haired Russian was smirking again. – You scared of him?

\- Not at all, - lied Luc quickly, getting a feeling his interlocutor could see right through it. He hastened with further more or less believable explanation. – He’s just- Well, you saw it yourself earlier. I don’t think he likes me very much.

Mikhail drunk the beer from his bottle.

\- He’s not so bad, y’ know, - Russian’s voice turned somewhat thoughtful, – once you get to know him… A little overprotective of course, old-fashioned and close minded, but what could one expect from a man at his age? Tis why I prefer young people around me that don’t have such constrains, that reach for what they desire uninhibitedly, not letting themselves be restrained by culture or tradition…

He all but moved the girl next to him onto his lap and she let it happen with a giggle, swinging her arms up and backward, encircling Mikhail’s neck to keep her balance. The blonde kissed her collar, then put his chin onto her shoulder, looking Luc into the eyes.

\- Now don’t listen to it, - said Ivan. – His morals are doubtful if not non-existing. Don’t let him provoke you into doing something you will regret later on.

Ivan’s words sobered Luc back to reality from staring into the blue eyes, reminding him of another man's presence. He desperately grabbed the chance to change the topic that started, in his opinion, to run out of hand.

\- So, Ivan, - he turned to his nearest companion, - you are the one getting married, right? I don’t think I've congratulated you yet.

\- Uh, yeah, thanks, - stuttered the young man, surprised by the sudden leap in the conversation. – Nice of you. Would you like to come to a wedding? You’re invited of course. You’re one of us now, after all.

Luc didn’t miss the quick glance toward Mikhail during the last sentence as if seeking his confirmation.

\- Jesus, man. Invite him to the bachelor party in the first place, - stated his opinion the Russian mafia leader. Luc was quite impressed by how he managed to handle both the girl and the beer without toppling over the former and spilling the latter.

In this moment Luc noticed the guy heading toward them. He shuddered a little as the man came closer and Luc recognized the him as the one of the men that beat him up once, that day he first saw Mikhail. But the tattooed individual barely spared him a glance as he addressed his leader.

\- Boss, it’s for you.

He offered a smartphone with ongoing call.

\- Who’s calling? – asked Mikhail not very eager to switch a beer for the phone.

The man eyed Luc once more but Luc thought he didn’t recognize him. Nevertheless he leaned down to whisper the information directly to Mikhail’s ear. Luc almost rolled his eyes. Why were they all so careful around him? The name wouldn’t told him anything either way.

Upon hearing Asami’s name Misha handed the bottle to the woman on his knees and took the device, his curiosity picked.

-  Hello there, - he greeted cheerfully. – You call me so rarely, you should definitely do it more often.

\- Cease it, Arbatov. We’re not friends, - came the clipped reply with a Japanese accent.

\- Ouch, you’re hurting my feelings.

There was a deep breath from the other side of the line as if the man was trying to stay in control of himself. Misha regretted he couldn’t see his face right now.

\- I would like to meet you in person.

That started to sound really interesting. But if his rival was so set about it, it wouldn’t harm to tease him some more.

\- Now I don’t know if I want to. If I’m not your friend…

\- For fucks sake! – there it was. Mikhail smirked to Lucas, because the boy sat opposite him, at another pause after the curse. – I’ve got a business proposition for you, - gritted Asami.

\- Business? Sounds boring, - stated the young Russian. – But since you ask so nicely maybe I could sent someone to you-

\- I have no intention of talking to your minions. Come yourself or I will address someone else.

\- You know you could phrase it more like: ‘we didn’t see each other for so long. I miss your presence in my life.’ You’d seem nicer at once.

\- I’m going to hang up if you don’t stop. Will you come or not?

That sounded pretty ultimately.

\- I will, - said Mikhail. – Give me an hour.. – the girl on his lap nudged him slightly in the chest and made a pouty expression at him, - or two hours, - he corrected. - It’s not that I want to postpone our tête-à-tête, I just had to do something first. One could say I’ve got hands full of work, - his free hand traveled to the girl’s hip and he smiled directly at her now. – I’m sure such a hardworking man like you understands.

\- Be at Meieki 4 in two hours, - said Asami and disconnected.

Mikhail dropped the phone on the table.

\- He didn’t even say a good bye, - he complained to Lucas and Vanya.

Ivan made no attempt to comment on that and before Luc could think up on some at least moderately clever answer, the girl whispered something to Mikhail and the Russian’s attention was back on her. Luc wondered from some time now how she was doing it: almost naked sans her skimpy swimsuit, wrapped around a fully dressed man – and yet still she managed to look elegantly.

Mikhail drowned down his beer and stood up, lifting her in his arms as if her slim form weight nothing at all, then deposited her on the ground.

\- Now if you’ll excuse me, - he addressed them once more, - ladies’ wishes come first.

Then he let her toward the villa and Luc followed them with his eyes, trying to suppress his imagination which insisted on showing him wild images of what they might do up there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Akihito made an appearance. Events from the manga starts. Hong-Kong affair on the horizon. I hope you're enjoying it if somebody still reads it.
> 
> Oh, and sorry for switching the POVs but I wanted you to hear full conversation with Asami.


	13. Chapter 13

When Mikhail came in the exclusive restaurant full of business people, Asami was there already. He sat at the small table, situated aside from the rest, partially obscured by a screen. An open menu laid before him next to the glass of water.

\- You’re late, - Asami noted coldly as Mikhail approached lazily.

Mikhail raised his eyebrows, glancing at his Blancpain watch for 10,000 $. It was one minute after the appointed time.

\- Oh, - he said, pulling off his chair and sitting down, - I forgot how meticulous Japanese people are. The famous fifteen minutes before the meeting… Did you hear that joke about Arabian-Japanese get-together?

Asami just stared at him, unimpressed. Mikhail took it as ‘I don’t want to hear that’ but couldn’t decipher if it was because the other man knew it already or just wasn’t the type with the sense of humor.

\- Don’t be mad at me, I’ll make it up to you. Let’s have this dinner on me.

\- Don’t trouble yourself. I ordered already, - Asami’s voice was full of icy courtesy, with acid hid deep underneath.

Mikhail had to admit, sitting across the Japanese, that the man was attractive. Not really his type, too serious and uptight Yuri style almost, but surely enticing for some people. And undeniably handsome, in that dark dangerous manner. The flawless black suit, hugging his silhouette so perfectly it was probably tailor-made; the burgundy tie; the white shirt… the overall elegant look even though too classic for Mikhail’s taste. The only element of him that brightened the dark figure and that Mikhail found intriguing were his golden eyes.

The Russian couldn’t help but wonder what would Asami be like in bed. Still so solemn, all business, I don’t have a time for fun? But surely on top, the man liked to dominate, tell others what to do, have control over the situation…

\- What are you thinking about? – asked Asami, wrenching him from these thoughts.

\- Your sexual preferences.

The waitress bringing Asami’s order to their table send them an odd look upon hearing this. Mikhail grinned to her.

\- Sweetheart, I’d take the same what my partner choose.

The girl bowed in acknowledgement and acceptance and scurried away. Only after she left Asami spoke up.

\- Are you actually hitting on me?

\- Nah, just wondering.

Asami started to eat his sushi. Mikhail hoped his undivided interest in food was the result of his comments, that it was the sign of being a little disturbed and wanting to avoid his eyes. But it was impossible to predict anything from that unreadable face of the Japanese. Mikhail noted mentally that it would be better not to play poker with him.

The waitress appeared again with another portion of the dish and placed it before Mikhail, asking if he would like something to drink.

\- Water’s fine.

She walked away again. Mikhail was beginning to feel impatient to find out the real purpose behind that little chit chat they shared. Asami seemed content with just ignoring him but Mikhail won’t give him the satisfaction of asking first. The ball was in Asami’s court now and they both knew it. The Russian begun to eat his meal instead.

\- So you stay in Macau, - commented Asami at some point as if asking a friend about their holidays.

\- Yeah, I like the wheatear here. Warm and nice. Ladies go about in skimpy clothes, almost undressed.

\- Everyone has his own criteria, - muttered Asami. – Are there any other benefits? How do you find the tax system or trade rules?

Mikhail paused in his meal.

\- Now that’s quite an interest you’ve taken in my humble person all of a sudden. If you’re gonna question me, offer me something in return.

Without word, Asami reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and took out the checkbook. He wrote done something and pushed the sheet of paper toward Mikhail. The blonde looked at the handwritten numbers. The corner of his mouth raised in a smirk at the amount of money the Japanese offered.

\- See? It’s immediately a different kind of talk. – Mikhail glanced around but the nearby tables were empty and the waiters stood far away. - What exactly do you want? – he asked not too loud.

\- Actual info about banks and casinos of Macau.

Mikhail’s eyes narrowed as he studied the other man closely. _Casinos of Macau_ … Could it be that Asami was after the Baishe’s casino? But he never really showed any interest in it, it was always a rivalry just between Mikhail’s and Feilong’s group. Why joining the race now? And the man was rather desperate judging by the generosity of his offer. It was surprising considering the fact he didn’t seem to be in a financial trouble.

\- What do you need it for? – he asked.

\- How I will use these information is my own business.

Mikhail wondered if he should go for it. These information would be really helpful if someone wanted to take over the “Royal Dragon”. The knowledge about the banks, casinos and the connections between them – it was very useful , for instance to find quickly the right persons to bribe. And Asami was surely a formidable opponent that shouldn’t be underestimated.

But was he really a competitor now? Feilong received Mikhail’s offer already and the Russian was positively sure no other buyer would outbid his proposition. It was probably only a matter of time now before it will be accepted.  After that, these information Asami required would be outdated of course and without any real value. But if the Japanese didn’t even want to admit he was after that concrete casino, then selling him those info won’t be exactly unfair. Besides Mikhail didn’t really care about being loyal to Asami.

This way he could have both the money Asami offered and the casino he probably wanted. Two hares in one shot.* Besides it was an incredibly amusing situation: to sell to Asami these info, seemingly doing everything the Japanese wanted him to do; and at the same time take for himself the praise these moneys were invested in, snatch the casino right from under Asami’s nose.

\- What takes you so long? – asked Asami from behind the empty plate. – The amount of money is unsatisfying?

\- Moneys are not everything in life.

\- Funny thing to hear from a guy with diamonds in his ears.

\- They are also cliché, - continued Mikhail, ignoring Asami’s remark. – Besides we’ve got many ways to acquire them. But I’ll take them, - he added as Asami made a move to retreat the check.

Mikhail put the paper into his breast pocket. The waitress came in that moment to take away the dishes and ask if they want anything else. After that brief pause in the conversation they returned to the point.

\- What else do you want? – asked Asami.

\- Ammunition. Guns and bullets. A whole ship. With the fake papers that allow to use the handguns legally.

Asami’s brow furrowed a little. _Hah, some reaction at last_ , thought Mikhail pleased with himself.

\- All right, - said Asami eventually. – I can provide that.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucas played idly with the label on a beer bottle, sitting at the table near the swimming pool. Mikhail had gone with the girl, Ivan had disappeared soon after, telling something about improving his drone.

Luc, left by himself, considered going to swim but didn’t have the trunks so he settled for watching the women there instead. Some played in the water, most of them just laid on the sunbeds, sipping their drinks. They differed in types of beauty, shades of complexion, hairstyles and many other details but all were attractive, young and graceful. Watching their womanly yet slim figures Luc would bet they were models.

One of the girls looked his way, and Luc felt like a child caught at doing something forbidden when their stares met, but then the girl smiled and waved at him. Luc raised his hand, answering the gesture automatically. Maybe he could go there and talk to her now?

His phone rang in his pocket. Angry at the interruption he picked up.

\- Where are you? – sounded Peter’s voice. – You dropped home in the middle of the night then disappeared early in the morning-

\- Are you calling just to chew me out?

\- I’m calling because I’m worried about you.

\- Well, there is no need to. I’m fine.

\- Luc…

\- I got that job I told you about. In fact, it’s so fine I’m thinking about moving to live here.

\- Are you serious?

\- Totally. My boss proposed it himself.

\- And you’re informing me about this via cellphone? Shit, couldn’t you at least come here and told me that in the eyes?

\- I’m telling you now.

\- That’s real nice of you. Here I thought several years of living with someone require notifying about such decisions with some advance, how naïve of me.

\- Look, if you’re just going to complain- - started Luc, impatient to finish this talk so he could get to know one of the girls that intrigued him.

\- It’s not complaining! Do you realize I’d have to find someone at your place in the restaurant? I don’t manage to run it on my own. And pay them a regular salary.

\- If you need money, I can send you some.

\- I don’t want your dirty money! Maybe for you it’s ok; as long as you got cash, you don’t care about its source but that’s not right.

Peter hanged out. Luc put the phone forcibly on the table, making the empty glasses wobble. After Peter’s remark he lost the interest in the girls. The brunette stood up and walked in the direction of the villa.

The money was the constant point of the fights between him and Peter. Luc couldn’t understand why Peter was always so set about being honest. It never paid him off. It was due to Luc’s little smuggles with Matt that they had enough money for a rent some months. And now it was thanks to his deal with the Russians that these bullies had stopped coming for the exertions.

Peter should be _grateful_ to him, thought Luc bitterly, walking through the corridors. And instead he kept criticizing him! And what Luc hated the most was the fact that Peter was somehow always able to make him have qualms about his demeanor. He should be immune to Peter’s objections by now, damn it.

\- Looking for something? – he heard a female voice and raised his eyes to see a tall slim brunette, with her hair held in a tight pony tail, leaning on one of the closed doors with her hands crossed and eyeing him hostilely.

\- Yyh, no… I just… - he stammered.

\- Is it Vanya? – came stressed out, vaguely familiar another’s female voice from behind the doors.

\- No, some brat I didn’t see before, - answered the brunette easily, ignoring Luc’s offended expression.

The doors’ handle moved, the brunette stepped aside and the doors opened a little. A face framed with curly brown hair showed up.

\- Oh, it’s all right, Nastya, don’t be so rude. I know him. Lucas, right? – she smiled at him.

\- Yeah.

Lucas only now noticed she wore a wedding dress. That’s right. Ivan’s girlfriend. Irine or something like that.

\- I’m hiding from Vanya, you see, - she continued. – He can’t see me in white before the wedding. Bad luck as they say. I know it’s a stupid superstition but better to be careful. – She winked at Luc and stepped out of the room. – How do you like it? – she asked whirling around.

\- Beautiful, - he said and that was the truth. The corset underlid her narrow waist, the white corresponded with her smile.

\- Wait a moment, - she said and disappeared into the room, emerging back after a moment.

She handed him a paper. Luc took it and discovered it was an invitation.

\- I don’t know if Vanya invited you already but here’s the official asking.

\- Uh, thanks, - answered Luc somewhat embarrassed, not knowing what he should say.

 Irine eyed him for a moment. The other woman, Nastya, also didn’t let him out of her sight but from her it felt like being surveyed and assessed while Irine’s gaze was full of kindness.

\- Something happened? – Irine asked at least. – You look rather sour. Did someone told you something? You know you have full right to be here if Misha allows that, right?

\- Yeah, I know. It’s not that, - answered Luc quickly. – It’s just… uh, I had a quarrel with an old friend. Nothing big. Don’t worry.

Irine didn’t look convinced.

\- Do you know what would brighten your mood? Shopping!

\- Oh no, - protested Luc. – It’s not a good idea. I appreciate your concern but that’s really not-

\- Don’t fret. It’s not about clothes and you won’t have to buy anything you won’t like, I promise. I think you will like it. Give me a chance, you won’t regret it.

\- Then what are you proposing? – asked Luc reluctantly, his curiosity winning with irritation.

\- I’ll show you. Just wait a moment.

 

* * *

 

 

Mikhail came back home in high spirits. He’d just cheated Asami in a master way - there was nothing the other man could accuse him of - and gained significant amount of cash and ammunition for information that soon would be outdated.

When one of his men informed him that somebody from Baishe is waiting for him, his good mood increased even more.  If the beautiful Chinese leader send someone to him it could mean only one thing: he accepted the proposition of purchase of the “Royal Dragon”. Things couldn’t turn out better.

Full of the joys of spring, Mikhail came into the guest room where the Chinese sat already. The man stood up and bowed upon his entrance. He wore glasses.

\- Good day, Mr. Arbatov, - he greeted.

Mikhail inclined his head.

\- Morning. You’re Feilong’s messenger, right? What do you have to say?

The other man hesitated slightly before answering.

\- I came to tell you Feilong isn’t interested in your proposition.

_Crap. Holy fucking shit._ A bunch of Russian courses crossed Mikhail’s mind, as his masterplan begun to crumble, before he realized that Chinese continued.

\- Feilong isn’t interested but Baishe is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * yep, it's hares and not birds in Russian. Also it's only about killing them, not specifically by shooting. (That's probably untranslatable but I wanted to make it climatic).
> 
> PS Sorry about all the scenes with too much OCs that are drawing on forever. It will sped up, I promise (who knew building an action takes so much time huh). All these scenes are just to prepare the ground for one original plot. There will be an action made from this. Also there will be smut. Eventually. Homo. Bear with me and we'll get to it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what happens, the chapters are getting longer but there is less and less content in them... maybe it's just my impression though

\- Wow, that isn’t… what I expected, - said Luc, seeing a motorcycle showroom.

\- See? You should have trusted her from the beginning, - said Ivan, standing nearby, embracing his fiancée from behind.

Irine just sorta gathered him when she forced Luc to come with her. The other girl disappeared somewhere and Luc couldn’t say he was sorry for it. Now he came inside the luxurious shop, the kind of salon he never actually was in before, eventually dropped there at nights to steal one of the products.

In daylight everything looked different, the polished motorcycles stood in a shining row, waiting for clients to choose one. The worker from the shop was at Luc immediately asking what he could help with.

\- Go on, chose one, - encouraged Irine. – Misha gave you some money, right? You should have something to ride on.

Luc came closer to the line of machines, tracing his fingers through the handles and carosery, barely listening to the shop assistant’s talk. He looked around the showroom, seizing the motorcycles with an expert eye and approached the place where the speeders stood.

The assistant followed him, his chat was a constant in Luc’s ear – ah, I see you know what’s what, are you looking for something to race on it? - but he still barely kept attention to it, overwhelmed with all the awesome vehicles surrounding him.

That was when he saw it – the black shiny Yamaha, one of Fazer’s models*, parked there unobtrusively, partly hidden behind the others. Luc stepped closer.

\- This one, - he said to the shop assistant.

\- Excellent choice,  - praise him the man though he probably said it to all his clients. – Fazer FZ6 S2, burns 5 liters per hour, reaches 100 km speed in 3 seconds, - the dealer went on with enlisting the qualities Luc knew.

Luc didn’t complain about this treatment though, it was an improvement from not being admitting into a VIP club. It was probably due to Irine’s contribution now, judged Luc; his hoodie didn’t scream wealth exactly.

The young Macanese glanced around to locate his companions. Irine was presently climbing one of the bikes and Ivan stood nearby, securing the standing machine from toppling over. They looked cute together, his reddish hair matching her brown locks. She was smiling brightly while Ivan wore more serious expression, probably worried she will fall down, though he didn’t discouraged her in any way from what she was doing.

It was obvious looking at them in each other’s company that they were happy spending time together. They were a pair at the first glance but they didn’t flaunt their relationship to others as some couples did, clinging to each other all the time and kissing without a break to take a breath.  


As Luc was looking at them, Irine raised her head from gazing at the gears, flicked her hair out of her eyes and smiled at Luc, seeing him glancing their way.

\- Did you decide on something? – she asked.

\- Uh, yeah. I think I’ll take this one. If there is enough money, - he addressed the shop assistant, taking out the credit card given to him by Mikhail.

The worker slope off to get the payment terminal.

\- No, wait, you can’t buy it just like that, - cut in Irine.

\- What? – said Luc, baffled.

\- You should totally have a test drive!

\- Oh, but I don’t think it’s the best idea… I drank a beer-

Irine rolled her eyes, sliding off the motorbike.

\- Please, what is one beer. I’m not saying you should join the traffic, just have a short ride there and back again before the shop.

Luc glanced at Ivan but the man just shrugged.

\- It’s up to you. I can help you move the bike outside if you want to try it.

\- All right, - decided the thief.

They moved the speeder outside, just as the worker returned from the facilities. The shop assistant didn’t utter a word of protest and even offered to help them. It still amazed Luc how differently he was treated by strangers from how he was used to. It was enough to be accompanied by people from Mikhail’s surrounding and the whole world has changed its approach toward him.

Luc held the handle, getting to feel it in hand – it was shaped perfectly. He threw one leg across the seat and, intending to start blusterously, turned on the gas in the same time. The motorbike rushed on a lot quicker than he expected. Damn, the dealer didn’t lie about this acceleration, crossed Luc’s mind as he felt himself falling.

The next moment he landed onto the concrete, the motorbike knocked over few meters apart with the engine turned on and one wheel still rolling. Awesome, Luc thought bitterly, he had made a fool of himself even before he really started a ride.

Ivan’s face appeared above him.

\- Are you all right?

Luc lifted himself up, gathering the leftovers of his dignity.

\- Am perfectly fine, - he gritted through clenched teeth.

He stood up, went to the bike and turned off the engine to still it in place. The vehicle was undamaged, Luc noticed with relief. He got somewhat attached already even though it wasn’t officially his property yet.

Only then he risked a look at Ivan again. The Russian’s lips tugged at the corners and he generally appeared as if he was preventing himself from laughing out loud. Luc grimaced. So much for his dignity to remain untouched.

\- I’d be grateful if you don’t tell anyone about it, - said Luc.

Ivan grinned.

\- I will take it to the grave with me.

\- What’s going on? Something happened? – asked Irine, just coming out of the shop

\- Lucas checked the ignition, he was just about to take a ride. You didn’t miss anything.

Luc send him a grateful look and hopped onto the motorcycle to try it. This time he rode without any performances.

 

* * *

 

 

\- Feilong isn’t interested…. but Baishe is.

Mikhail didn’t often find himself at a loss of words, he almost always got something witty to say, some sharp retort ready to throw at his interlocutor – but hearing this, hearing _Feilong’s_ subordinate telling him openly he was ready to betray his boss – that caught Mikhail off guard.

He turned to the minibar, with his back to the Chinese to mask any emotions that could show on his face. Mikhail took out the bottle and poured himself a glass of cognac, deliberately not proposing one to his guest. He took his time with it, making the Baishe member wait a little too long for his reaction. Let him be worried too.

He didn’t address the other man until he sat in the armchair comfortably. The Chinese still stood awkwardly before him. That marked the display of power here quite well for Mikhail’s liking.

\- What is your name? – he asked, sizing up the Chinese, lustrating him from above the edge of his glass.

Drink was a perfect item to hide behind. A beautiful girl would be even better but there wasn’t any at hand.

\- Yin Quing, - the Chinese bowed again.

\- And you’re here to betray your boss.

Quing’s face lost its composure for a brief second but that was enough confirmation for Mikhail.

\- Proposing me a deal behind his back, - the blonde continued evenly. – Do you realize he would kill you if I were to told him that?

\- I.. wouldn’t call it betrayal, - the Chinese begun carefully, a note of nervousness entered his voice. – I represent the group that aims for Baishe’s best interest. And what is good for Baishe is also good for our boss.

  _It’s not for you to decide_ , thought Mikhail _._

Fei Long’s subordinates turning on him wasn’t something the Russian leader had expected. Loyalty among one’s men was the base on which the organization has worked, a key to success, a very foundation of its existing. Any other problems could be dealt with in various methods but without the unconditional devotion of the underlings, the structure could crumble. All the police methods of fighting against organized crime consisted on using this weakness; the institutions such as crown witness or unpunishable confession conditioned by giving away the rest of the members of the group - it all worked through destroying the solidarity inside the organization.

Not to mention the competitive groups that would use any weakness in a flash to gain more power for themselves. And Baishe’s position was something to fight for. Maybe it was better after all that the man came to him rather than to someone that could actually use the situation and destroy Fei…

\- So you’re proposing you will give me a casino that isn’t even yours and in exchange I should give you the money I offered Fei Long?

Mikhail took a sip from his glass, enjoying how the Chinese seemed more and more nervous by the minute.

\- As I said we act in Baishe’s best interest. We don’t want to steal from the organization, these moneys would serve to expand its power.

\- Yes, - said Mikhail, unconvinced, - and how are you going to transfer the casino?

\- There is a deed, Casino’s Operating Rights. Who’s got a hand on it, practically owns ‘Royal Dragon’.

Mikhail gave it a thought. That didn’t sound so unrealistic. And he would gain the casino he was after… It surely wasn’t as he hoped it would be, it wasn’t Feilong himself accepting his proposition; it wasn’t even Feilong agreeing to it.

It was surprising that such things happened in Baishe at all. Feilong was a perfectionist, he shouldn’t make any mistakes that would push his people to seeking the contact with the competition. Which brought another question: what exactly Feilong was doing and why?

\- Why are you doing this? Knowing the price…

The Chinese hesitated.

\- Our boss… tends to make some illogical decisions lately… Me and some others men are worrying about its impact on the organization. We decided to took things in our own hands before it would be too late.

\- What illogical decisions?

\- For example not accepting your profitable offer, sir. Or… - Quing stopped mid-sentence.

\- What else? – demanded Mikhail.

\- I shouldn’t be telling you this…

\- Don’t make me laugh, you’re the one that came to me.

\- Well, there was… an incident with the man called Asami. My boss… stole something from him… it doesn’t have any real value so the boss probably did it only to annoy Asami, which isn’t exactly the best-

\- Why is he so fixated on that Japanese? – asked Mikhail sharply.

Quing looked at him uncertainly, as the Russian put his glass down harder than necessary.

\- Is there something between them? – he asked looking straight at the Feilong’s unfaithful servant.

\- N-nothing that I know about. There are some rumors but I’ve never seen their relation to be anything different than enemies..

\- You may go, - told him Mikhail.

Did Feilong had a crash on Asami? It would explain his illogic unusual behavior… why else pick up a fight with Asami if not to get his attention?

\- But… what about our offer? – asked the dismissed Chinese.

\- Bring me the deed and I’ll think about it, - waved him off Mikhail.

After the Chinese had left, Mikhail drowned his drink in one gulp and set the empty glass aside, immersing in thoughts. Did something other than business connected Feilong and Asami? It didn’t seem so but then, Mikhail couldn’t really remember seeing the two of them at the same time. It would be helpful to decipher what’s between them if he could witness their meeting…

Asami was also after the Baishe’s casino all of a sudden. Maybe he made Feilong a more beneficial offer and that was why the beautiful Chinese rejected Mikhail’s proposition? But in that case Feilong’s subordinates wouldn’t ask for his interference. There must be something else to it.

Maybe it was all about the item stolen from Asami by Feilong? Mikhail noted to ask Quing in details about that the next time the Chinese would show up.

The sounds of laughter from the outside burst in on his thoughts. Mikhail get to the window to see who it was and saw Inka, Vanya and Lucas near the swimming pool. The girl was covering her fiancé’s back with the sunscreen, narrating something to Lucas. The kid was laughing from her story.

 

* * *

 

 

\- No way, - uttered Lucas, choking with laughter. – That’s so mean.

\- That’s the whole point! Don’t tell me you’ve never play it on your friends. The best it is when they fall asleep on the beach, then you have a time to draw something ambitious with the sun cream. Imagine their faces when they look into the mirror to check if they get suntanned enough and there is this whole pale image of fucking couple right onto their back, made with 50 SPF filter.

\- Oh no, and it’s so hard to get rid of it, - said Lucas, through the tears of joy now, - to make it disappear they would have to go sunbath again but then the people on the beach would see them like that.

\- Love, I’m starting to worry why it’s taking you so long, - spoke up Ivan as Irine was taking care of his back, sitting on his tights and smearing the cream on the skin laid out before her.

\- Oh, don’t worry, - said Irine, kissing his shoulder. – You’re the only one safe from me here. I’m just giving you a massage.

\- Mm, that’s nice.

\- She’s totally drawing you a dick on your back, - said a familiar voice from behind and Luc whirled around to see Mikhail approaching them. The blonde wore just swimming trunks and a towel threw across his shoulders.

\- What? – Ivan tried to get up.

\- Stay down, you silly, - chided him Irine. – He’s joking.

\- She’s really not doing anything bad, - added Lucas to calm him, feeling somewhat indebted. Ivan kept silent about his shameful accident.

Mikhail stood just next to Lucas and damn, it was distracting when so much of his skin was exposed. Luc’s eyes, almost of their own volition, swept through the abs on his stomach. What was he doing to get such form? Luc’s belly was flat but the muscles were barely visible there.

Mikhail looked like a statue of some ancient Greek god, with his athletic build, blond locks and clear blue eyes. Luc suddenly remembered as he first saw him half-naked in that hotel room, and blushed to the tips of his ears. It was hot temperature though, he convinced himself, they probably didn’t notice. He could be red from the heat. However, just in case, he turned his head in the other direction so Mikhail wouldn’t see his face.

Luc’s eyes fell onto the few girls in the water, throwing among themselves an inflatable ball. He sighed, he really should had brought his swimsuit from his and Peter’s flat.

\- Do you want to join them? – asked Mikhail, leaning close to his ear and looking at the girls above Luc’s shoulder.

Luc could feel Mikhail’s breath on his neck and forced himself to stay in place, resisting the stupid urge to lean back onto Mikhail’s chest.

\- Y, yeah, but I don’t have any swimming trunks, - he said.

\- That’s not a problem, - said Mikhail amused and pulled off from him.

Before Luc had a time to proceed what’s going on, he was pushed, hard. He tried to keep his balance but Mikhail was there, grabbing his arms to prevent him from fighting back and threw them both into the water. There was a loud plash as they dived in, sending the substantial amount of water splashing everywhere. Luc didn’t see the rain of droplets spraying Irine and Ivan, he didn’t see anything as the liquid closed above his head, just the bubbles of troubled water rushing everywhere around him. The hands trapping him let go as he trashed, trying to free himself on instinct. He swung his arms, twice, before his head emerged on the surface.

He took a deep breath then coughed a few times to spew any water that get into his nose and throat.

\- You are crazy! – still sputtering Luc shouted at Mikhail.

The blonde, floating few meters apart, smiled at him.

\- You’re not the first one to call me that.

\- What if I couldn’t swim?!

\- Then I would have rescued you of course.

Luc casted him a dark glance from beneath the wet strands of his black hair that clung to his forehead. Mikhail swam closer.

\- Take it easy, Luc. It’s nice to cool down when it’s so hot outside, isn’t it?

Well, he got a point, thought Lucas, relenting. Besides, looking into that angelic blue eyes, it was impossible to be angry with him. Their azure color gave the impression of such innocence, even though one was almost drowned by their owner a moment ago.

Their closeness and legs brushing underwater incidentally also didn’t help to keep up the hostile manner.

\- Come to the other side, - suggested Mikhail. – Water is shallower there.

When the blonde turned to swim there, Luc caught the picture of his scarred back and wondered again what happened to him or rather, who did that to him. Mikhail wasn’t especially hiding the marks, none of the persons present were paying them any attention as if they were used to the sight.

\- Hey, Elen, serve to me, - called Mikhail to the girl that held the inflatable beach ball presently and the woman threw a ball his way.

Luc roused from his reverie about contemplating Mikhail’s scars and swam to join them in the play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *again, apologizing for all the unprofessional motorization babble  
> Also, do not ride under the influence of alcohol!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I wanted to thank all the readers who left kudos on my work. This is my absolute record now, the number of kudos crossed one hundred and the story doesn't even have one kiss in it. (Yet. It will change.)
> 
>  
> 
> Some action finally. I hope. 
> 
> Also, um, warnings for character death...

\- … a very important document was stolen from my office, - Fei Long was saying, seated elegantly in an armchair, eyeing the crowd of his minions gathered before him. – It was the deed to the casino in Macau.

 

Yin Quing froze as the people gathered around him started murmuring between themselves nervously. Baishe’s leader continued.

 

\- It was the document that the Russians had previously wanted. I cannot believe that it disappearing now is a coincidence. It seems, - Fei Long pierced them with his violet eyes* and suddenly the aura in the room tensed considerably, - I shall have to see if someone is in league with them.

               

Quing swallowed but that was the only outer sign of his discomfort. He glanced furtively at the two persons he had discussed the matter with, hoping they weren’t that stupid… One look at the sweating short form told him they were. He almost rolled his eyes. _I’m surrounded by idiots._

 

\- Come to think of it, Yoh had been disappearing lately, - the short one blurted desperately to distract attention from him. It worked as everyone eyed the Japanese at once. – Maybe he is secretly in contact with them?

 

\- Yoh, come here, - said Fei Long, and Yoh did as he said immediately. – Show me your palms.

 

One of the men at Fei Long’s side shone at Yoh’s hands with an ultraviolet torch.

 

\- You’re not the one, - Fei Long mused and waved him away. – Now those who wish to show their innocence, come forward.

 

The men started to line up before the boss. Quing kept a wary eye at his acquaintance. The man sweated visibly now and took an involuntary half step back. _Great_ , though Quing wryly, _this is how acting without consulting me ends up._

 

\- The document in question had been printed with a special type of ink. When shown under that light, it’s easy to see who has touched it. I wouldn’t leave such an important document on my desk, - Fei Long looked almost amused now, - but I didn’t think someone would actually fall for it.

 

Quing made his face into an unreadable mask. _Those idiots!_ They were so close to struck an ideal deal and now everything was about to end.

 

More people went up to the boss, showing their hands, proving their innocence. The unchecked group diminished quickly. The time for the next man came and the bald one panicked.

 

\- No, let go of me! – he tried to wrench out of the grip of the men around him. That was as good as pleading guilty.

 

Soon he was thrown upon the floor, pressed by the hands and knees of his former associates. Fei Long watched everything from his chair, the only man sitting in the room, and yet he seemed to tower over them all.

 

\- No, boss, I would never betray you! – he yelled pathetically but Fei Long’s beautiful face didn’t change expression.

 

– I was just lured by all the money, - he tried the weak excuse. Then decided to play a stronger card, - I wasn’t the only one! There were two more-

 

At that, the short one wrestled his gun tucked behind his belt, and was about to use it when something bumped into his side. Tao pushed him with all the viciousness of the kid. The man shook him off, sending the boy to the floor. Everyone froze, looking at the tiny unconscious body.

 

If Quing wasn’t afraid for his very life at the moment, he would have facepalmed. This performance was everything that ought to be avoided. Screaming, shooting, yelling it wasn’t their fault… as if this was not enough to condemn a man, add hurting favorite human toy of the boss to the list.

 

Before he had a time to ponder at all this mess, the foreign slut of the boss interfered as well. The lithe blonde, hands tied behind his back, charged head front at the armed guy. And the idiot shot him.

 

Before anyone could react, when Japanese pet’s body didn’t land on the floor yet, the second shot sounded. The one holding a gun dropped down with a blood staining his shirt on his chest. Behind him, Yoh lowered his weapon.

 

Fei Long was kneeling where Tao fell already with his face twisted in worry. He checked the boy’s pulse and his features relaxed. Then he went to the Japanese prisoner, actually checking his condition too, crouching at his side, uncaring of the blood staining his robes and his own barely healed wounds. Quing, watching the scene with distaste, ascertained himself his intervention with Russians was needed indeed. The boss stopped acting reasonably.

 

\- Call the medics, - ordered Fei Long, pressing to the shotgun wound at Akihito’s arm. He didn’t spare one glance at his fallen subordinate.

 

Yoh picked the alarm number on his phone.

 

\- What with him? – asked someone of the guys still holding the bald one down.

 

Fei Long, not raising from his place at Akihito and Tao’s side, send them an icy look.

 

\- Execute him.

 

The bald man went deathly white, not able to utter a word and one of the men that were holding him drew a gun.

 

\- No- ! – he started but even before he managed to cry the whole word, another shoot sounded in the chamber.

 

Quing looked around coolly. Nobody was paying him any attention. With some luck, he could get out of this unscratched. But it was better to disappear right now, he thought and retreated from the room.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Yin Quing showed up at Arbatov’s Mansion in Macau, he was led to the swimming pool. Some kid in wet clothes sat at the edge and wrung the water from his t-shirt. Yin passed him and went to the other side where he spotted the person he came here for. The young blond leader sat on a sunbed, with a laptop on his knees and a lady on each arm. Blue eyes skimmed the Chinese cursorily, then returned to the screen.

 

\- Well, where is the promised deed?

 

Quing casted a fleeting glance at the girl leaning on Mikhail’s shoulder but her attention seemed focused solely on the Russian. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t listen but then, since the young boss was apparently ok with that, whatever his reasons, Quing followed his example.

 

\- There, uh, - he hesitated, - occurred some… troubles… some unexpected obstacles.

 

That made the Russian look at him again.

 

\- Be more specific.

 

\- We… um, lost the documents. It was, so to say, stolen.

 

\- What? Weren’t _you_ suppose to steal it?

 

\- Yes, that was the original plan but my accomplices, - he gritted the word, -fucked up. They’ve acted too hastily and almost blew up everything… I should have chosen more carefully the right persons to be trusted with that- - he stopped at Mikhail’s raised hand.

 

\- Who stole it?

 

\- Asami Ryuichi, it seems.

 

 _Fuck_ , thought Mikhail, slamming his laptop shut, _I shouldn’t have given him this information._

 

\- A-as I said, not everything’s lost yet, - said the Chinese quickly. – He wants to give it back.

 

\- What? – Mikhail looked at the foreigner incredulously. _What the fuck? Was the Japanese even more crazier than him? Why he would do such a thing?_ – He got it in his hands, the casino worth millions and now he wants to return it? What does he want from Feilong in exchange?

 

\- Eh, what boss stole from him earlier… Takaba Akihito.

 

\- …he’s trading a Japanese hostage for the deed? What’s it all about? – wondered Mikhail aloud, puzzled. – And how did Asami got hold of these papers so easily? Anyway, who is this man called Takaba? He must be valuable…

 

The Chinese almost squirmed from discomfort while answering.

 

\- He seems to be… Asami’s mistress… I mean, was. Before boss stole him.

 

Mikhail rubbed his chin in wonder. So it was like that.

 

\- Fei Long’s stealing a man… yet he’s giving me the short shrifts only…

 

That was so uncharacteristic for the beautiful Chinese dragon to be involved in a matter like that. He wasn’t the one famous from passionate romances, rather the one always cold and haughty as a god; perfectly composed and not letting feelings interfere with his business. Detached from the mortals’ world almost.

 

Because, if it wasn’t so, reasoned Mikhail, he would have fallen for him already.

 

Yet now he kidnapped some man. Whose purpose in the underworld was rather obvious. How could someone like that be chosen over _him_? Maybe this concubine was insanely beautiful or something… Mikhail considered himself an attractive man though he was far from Fei’s legendary beauty. But still, the looks seemed too shallow for a reason for Feilong to act like that.

 

Then it hit him.

 

\- Oh, I see, - he mused. – It is because this Takaba’s Asami’s man, isn’t it? Well, that makes me jealous… Anyway, this is turning interesting if they’re fighting over Takaba. You said when the exchange of goods is planned?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After gaining all needed information, Mikhail sent the Chinese away and thought about all the possibilities this situation opened for him. He would get a chance to see the object of his feelings and Asami in one place, see how they interact together, how they treat one another. He would check these rumors about them for himself. If there was some old love between them… but he would worry about that only after having an irrefutable proof.

 

Now about that deed… he immersed in thoughts, constructing a rough plan of action from the scarce information he got. After some time, having a vague outline, he casted a look around the swimming pool, seeking one person that could be useful in his schemes.

 

Luc still sat at the edge of the pool, cross legged, with his eyes closed and face turned to the sun. Drying. Mikhail got up with a smirk. The kid’s black hair was perfectly straight, so different from his own that always curled up as he was near the water, no matter what gel he used. The youth’s skin was a few shade darker than his own, showing his Macanese origins though there was something European in his features, probably a parent or grandparent from abroad.

 

Mikhail gathered two drinks with ice on his way, sipped coke with rum from one and surveyed his newest employee a moment longer. He always liked the way wet clothes showed one’s body perfectly. The kid had good proportions, even though was a little smaller from Russians around him. Too skinny also, but his shoulders were broad enough and there were some muscles on his arms… it wouldn’t hurt to take him to the gym from time to time though to work on that.

 

Mikhail approached him and Luc turned, opening his eyes. Good reflex. One from the streets had to have it, the blonde supposed. It was a useful skill, he won’t be walked from behind by an opponent.

 

The Russian passed Luc one glass and seated himself down next to him.

 

\- I’m gonna be drunk everyday here if this continues, - the Macanese commented though accepted the glass easily and took a long sip through the straw.

 

\- You’ll get used to it. Practice makes perfect, - shrugged Mikhail.

 

The kid casted him a sidelong glance and Mikhail decided he looked adorable like that, with his dark eyes under the wet fringe and mouth wrapped around the straw.

 

\- Do you ever stop drinking? – asked Lucas, sounding genuinely curious.

 

\- It’s too hot in Macau to stop drinking.

 

\- In Russia then?

 

\- There is too cold to not drink.

 

Lucas smiled widely at that.

 

\- I heard Inka made you bought a bike today.

 

The kid’s eyes lit.

 

\- Yeah, it’s perfect. They should deliver it in a day or so, - he frowned. – Though I think it’s the most expensive mode of transport I’ve ever had.

 

\- You’ve ever bought, you mean, - smirked Mikhail. – I assure you the Ferrari you sneaked was worth more than any motorcycle.

 

\- Hey, I returned it! – the kid nudged him in the arm.

 

Mikhail ruffled his hair in retaliation, Lucas half-heartedly tried to push his hand away, using only one palm, cradling a half-empty drink in the other. As Mikhail let him go, he was rather pleased with his handiwork. The black strands stood in all directions and the kid looked like a wet puppy.

 

The Macanese raked his own palm through his hair, getting it into a semblance of being more or less composed. He sighed and leaned closer till their shoulders met. Mikhail didn’t drew away.

 

\- I wouldn’t worry about your financial condition, - he said to the kid.

 

\- Oh yeah?

 

\- Yeah. I got a task for you. If you succeed, you will earn quite a lot.

 

Lucas straightened and looked up at him with interest, listening to his offer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I’m almost sure they’re dark, like brown or even black but picture this beauty with violet eyes ^^ perfection


	16. Chapter 16

The helicopter flew over the Tokyo Bay, Luc stood inside, looking down through a non-existent door at the pitch black water and the lights of the city in afar. He never once saw something as beautiful before but he wasn’t interesting in admiring the sights right now.

 

There were five men beside him in the helicopter, six counting the pilot. Luc felt something between excitement and dread filling him as he looked into the space below.

 

Mikhail leaned onto the metal frame behind him, his body almost touching Luc’s back.

 

\- Starting to stress over? – the Russian murmured in his ear. – You don’t have acrophobia, do you?

 

\- No, - said Luc. – I just… I never did it before.

 

\- There is a first time to everything, - said Mikhail, sounding amused.

 

At the other side of the crumped space Yuri spit through the empty doors, looking deeply disgusted.

 

\- I’m not afraid, - said Luc loudly to convince himself as much as the other men gathered in the helicopter. – I’m just… not sure if I can land where I’m supposed to, - he admitted quieter.

 

\- It’s not so hard, - told him Mikhail. – But in that case I think we can go together. Is there a harness for two? – he asked over his shoulder.

 

\- I guess we can just attach the two together, - said one of the man, Luc wasn’t sure his name, with a shrug. – He’s tiny, - he added, assessing Luc with one glance.

 

\- I’m not, - protested Luc, over the roar of the helicopter’s wings and the dash of the wind outside.

 

\- I see the ship, - called Ivan and the commotion begun as each man started to put on the skydiving harness.

 

Luc realized his fingers were trembling slightly as he fastened all the buckles. _Keep calm, dam it, you’re going to be all right._ He breathed deeply to compose himself, closing his eyes momentarily.

 

\- You’ve got it? – asked someone softly and Luc opened his eyes.

 

Mikhail stood in front of him, looking at him fondly. He reached out and run his hands through all the straps wrapping Luc’s body. Luc knew he was only checking if the fasteners were properly clasped but he held his breath as the Russian’s fingers traced the insides of his thighs. He just hoped he wasn’t blushing and if he was, that it was too dark for anyone to notice anything.

 

\- See? You’ve got the most important thing done already, - said Mikhail, - all by yourself.

 

Then he spun the boy around and attached the few more buckles, connecting their harnesses.

 

\- Now, there’s the fun part, - the Russian grinned madly. – Let’s jump.

 

\- Wait, - said Luc, clinging to one of the strong arms holding him but it was too late.

 

Mikhail moved with him to the edge of the helicopter’s floor and further. Luc lost the ground beneath his feet and felt his stomach flipping upside down as they flew down.

 

He was falling, too terrified to scream, his jaw clenched almost painfully.  He forced himself to open his eyes and they watered immediately at the speed of air rushing nigh. The ship was nearing at the alarming rate, growing bigger with each nanosecond it seemed.

 

 _We’re gonna crush_ , thought Luc with sudden certainty, regretting he couldn’t press further into the warm body behind him, seeking some comfort.

 

Then Mikhail fumbled with the strings at his chest and Luc heard the sound of a parachute being open. The next moment a strong tug pulled him back, all the straps digging into his body painfully. After that their tempo slowed to a reasonable one and Luc realized he was in normal position now, with his legs down as they descended slowly in the direction of the ship; instead of lying in the air horizontally, falling with a dreadful speed to the ground as it was a moment ago.

 

Mikhail’s arm wrapped around his chest swiftly.

 

\- You can breathe now, - Luc heard in his ear.

 

He realized he was holding his breath indeed and took a deep inhale of the night air. The smog filled substance never before tasted as sweetly.

 

The hand disappeared from his torso as the blonde focused on pulling the strings of the parachute to direct them onto the flat roof of the ferry boat.

 

* * *

 

 

They descended silently under the cover of the night, falling at the ship like the falcons from the sky at their prey. Five black parachutes, six darkly clothed men.

 

They stripped from all the attachments and folded the material of the skydives in a matter of minutes; then, one by one, went down to the lower deck. When a bodyguard checked on the roof in his round, the place was empty and unsuspicious.

 

* * *

 

 

Quing waited for them before an empty game room. Before they entered, Mikhail’s hand fell upon Luc’s shoulder.

 

\- Go do your task.

 

\- Sure, boss.

 

The youth went away, sliding though the nearest “only staff” doors to avoid walking on some VIP guest on the ship.

 

\- And you go bring the kid, - the Russian mafia leader addressed the Chinese traitor.

 

Quing nodded and went as well.

 

\- And what we do? – asked Sergei.

 

\- For now we wait, - said Mikhail, walking into the room. – Or drink, - he added, eyeing appreciatively the wall behind the bar, filled with the finest alcohol. Fei Long knew his job.

 

* * *

 

 

Luc walked silently through a narrow corridor when he heard steps. He glanced around in panic and retreated hastily into the first room. Luckily it was empty. The steps passed the doors behind which he hid and drew away. He breathed with relief.

 

But the staff passages weren’t safe enough to travel in, somebody might see him. He needed something better.

 

Luc, feeling at the loss, glanced around and his gaze fell on the air conditioning crate at the ceiling. Perfect! He drew a chair under it, climb on and, after temporary struggle, removed the plastic cover. He hid it behind some boxes in the utility room so nobody would notice at first glance something was off.

 

Then he stepped onto the chair again, reached out with his hands, placing palms firmly inside the air conditioning passage. He jumped up, pushing off from the chair. He managed to slid his head and arms inside. He blocked falling down with the elbows, then, after the moment of ungraceful wriggling and straining his muscles, he scrambled inside.

 

Luc breathed deeply, glad that nobody saw it and went ahead on his hands and knees.

 

* * *

 

 

Akihito stared resignedly through the glass walled lift at the deck below. He should feel exited, he’d probably meet with Asami in a moment but he just felt really tired and done with everything. He tried not to think of what could go wrong, he tried to ignore the chat between Fei Long’s servants escorting him, talking about him as if he wasn’t even there. It was rather a monologue than chit-chat as the man with the glasses kept mostly silent.

 

\- Geez, unbelievable, an exchange with no profit, - said the other one. – Why didn’t the boss just sold him off immediately? Could make some money out of it at least…

 

Suddenly Akihito saw the familiar silhouette far below. He jumped to the glass wall.

 

\- A.. asa…-

 

Someone pulled him back roughly.

 

\- Keep quiet, brat, - the man barked and held onto Akihito to not let him go forward again. The boy trashed at first but the strong grip on the scruff of his neck was unrelenting so he stilled.

 

\- To be honest, I think we should have dealt with it ourselves, - the man continued after subduing Akihito, - for the boss’ sake, of course. It seemed they would’ve paid as much money as demanded.. What do you think? – he addressed his companion.

 

\- Yeah… right… - the man with the glasses said. – Good idea. Only somebody got it before you.

 

He yanked out his gun, unlocked it and shoot his colleague straight in the chest a few times.

 

Akihito opened his mouth to scream as the man fell dead next to him. The lift jerked stop as the shooter pushed the button.

 

\- H-hey! Why! – shouted Akihito as he found his voice, too shocked to say something coherent.

 

The man grabbed Akihito and pulled him through the doors that slid open.

 

\- Come!!

 

\- No, let me go! – Akihito trashed in his grip, trying to yank free. – What are you doing. I need to go down, he’s right there…

 

They were at ninth floor, Asami stood on the lowest one, there was no need to leave the lift yet.

 

The man holding him spun around with rage twisting his face. He put the gun to Akihito’s face.

 

\- If you don’t shut up, I’ll kill you right now.

 

He didn’t shout these words and, somehow, because of the cold tone they sounded even scarier. But Akihito saw Asami right there, he was so close. Just a few floors and he’d be safe… He gathered all his wits and screamed as loud as he could:

 

\- Asami!!!

 

* * *

 

 

Crawling through the air conditioning alleys, Luc heard gunshots. He froze in place.

 

 _C’mon, nobody would shoot to the ceiling,_ he reasoned, ignoring the small voice that told him about the possible warning shot.

 

As silently as he could, holding his breath in fear somebody might hear him because of it, he dragged himself to the nearest crate. He peered down at the room below. At first he didn’t notice anything besides casino automats and game tables covered with canvas.

 

Then he picked out little movement behind one of the tables. Somebody was hiding there, Luc realized.

 

\- Are you pretending you aren’t in pain? – sounded someone else’s voice from the other side of the room. – It seems the wounds I gave you are not quite healed yet!

 

The hiding man kept silent.

 

\- To tell the truth I’m surprised you came all the way here for just one boy…

 

The owner of the voice was clearly trying to get the other man to reveal his position, Luc judged. Surprisingly, this time it worked.

 

\- Don’t be ridiculous. I just came here to settle the matters from 7 years ago.

 

\- Hmmph, I wonder… If you are not the one who took Takaba, should you be wasting the time? Chances to save him are getting thinner with each passing moment… Whoever took him, there can be only one goal behind it. Just give me back the deed, before somebody else lays hands on it.

 

Luc leaned closer to the slots in the ceiling to hear better.

 

\- Or are you the one who has Akihito already and you’re just playing to win both prizes? In that case, I’m not letting you get away with it. You never liked tedious meetings, you always took what you wanted by force… like seven years ago. Maybe you should’ve just killed me then.

 

\- I can do this now, - Luc saw the man’s hand reaching out to snatch something from the floor near to his hiding place, as he kept talking to distract his opponent’s attention. - I’m tired with dealing with your unwarranted revenge.

 

\- Unwarranted?! You conspired against me, enticed me and drove Baishe to annihilation. But I am now the leader of Baishe, exactly where you wanted me, though probably not so submissive as you planned. I guess you didn’t imagine that not letting me die back then would let us to this result..

 

Luc saw as the hiding man threw whatever he held in hand to one side and ducked in the other direction quickly. His rival fell for the bluff, stepped out of his own cover and shoot his magazine at the place from where the noise had sounded.

 

Luc caught a glance of him. He knew him from somewhere, he thought… these long black hair, the Chinese traditional clothes… He saw him with Mikhail once! On that ‘business meeting’ as his boss called it. Luc remembered how much Mikhail was interested in the man, how it was obvious even at the distance Luc had observed them from. He remembered the uncomfortable, _ungrounded_ sense of almost-jealousness, feeling its echo now. _Baishe leader_ , Luc contemplated briefly. He felt so below these guys right now.

 

Presently the long haired man realized his mistake quickly but not quickly enough. His enemy emerged from behind the slot machines’ row, gun in his hands and shoot at the Chinese, hitting his weapon and causing it to fly from the man’s grip. The Chinese caught his hand, bending as if he was hurt but Luc didn’t notice any blood. It was probably just the pain of the recoil force. If ‘just’ was a good word for it. It must have hurt as hell.

 

The man who shoot approached the curled form of his victim and twisted his hurt hand behind, hitting him in the back with his gun simultaneously. Luc almost cringed in sympathy.

 

The Chinese landed on the ground, the other man crouching beside him, pressing his gun to the back of Chinese’s head.

 

\- Let go! – hissed the defeated man angrily.

 

\- Hmph, - mused the one who held a gun, - did you wanted me to acknowledge you that badly?

 

\- What..?

 

\- If you came here just for your pathetic sense of revenge I can only feel sorry for your subordinates… But that’s not it, am I right? The fact is, you don’t really care about the past… As to you being where I wanted you to be, - the man on the top slid his gun down the other’s man spine, still holding him by the scruff pressed to the floor with the other hand, - I know exactly what to do to subdue a guy like you…

 

The position they were in allowed Luc to see clearly as the short-haired man drew his gun right to the other guy’s buttocks, grinding the barrel teasingly between them.

 

\- …but I won’t do that. Just like I didn’t seven years ago.

 

Then he leaned down and said something to the Chinese’s ear too quietly for Luc to hear but it caused the man on the floor to trash madly in the other’s grasp. He managed to wrench himself free and, almost faster than Luc could register, flipped them both over so he was on the top now.

 

\- You scum… Why didn’t you just let me die back then? So you could insult me like this? Will you even insult the years I spent hating you..?

 

The Chinese sat spread legged above his rival, holding him to the ground with his whole body even though Luc didn’t saw the man trying to escape.

 

\- I didn’t want you die, - he said almost too quiet for Luc to pick it up. – Unlike you, I don’t deny my own self and that included saving you. If you want to kill me now, do it but you won’t be satisfied. It’s not what you desire…

 

The Chinese hands clenched at the other man’s suit’s collar.

 

\- Don’t talk like you know everything about me.

 

The long haired guy leaned down, Luc was sure to whisper some threat to his fallen enemy… but the Chinese kissed him instead. Luc stared at the scene below with his mouth open, trying to proceed what he was seeing.

 

It didn’t make sense on so many levels. How could they try to shot each other dead a moment ago and now go to kissing? More importantly even, though Luc, how could anybody that apparently could have had Mikhail on his one word, go for anyone else?

 

The only explanation that came to Luc’s head was that the men were lovers during a quarrel. A very intense quarrel.

 

He shook out of his thoughts as the men finally parted.

 

\- You’re right, - the Chinese said, ghosting his fingers through the other man’s mouth, - I don’t care about the past. I just wanted this.

 

He got up. The man in the three part suit raised himself to a sitting position. The Chinese got his gun but didn’t try to use it anymore. He went to the door but stopped in midway.

 

\- You can act as everything’s going according to your plans, - he said. – But Asami, - he turned his head to look behind his shoulder at the man sitting on the floor, - you are also just a man. Unreasonable one to that, seeing as you rashly storm into your enemy’s territory to get back the one thing you hold dear.

 

The man, Asami, corrected himself Luc, didn’t answer to that last bait.

 

\- …I am going to search for Akihito, - continued the Baishe leader. – I’ll find him before you do. We can talk after that.

 

Then he exited the room. Asami gathered himself from the ground and left not long afterward, taking the other exit.

 

Luc pressed his forehead to the cold inner wall of the air conditioning passage. _What the fuck?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thees events were suppose to be like the half of the chapter but it came out longer than I imagined so I'm posting it as it is.


	17. Chapter 17

Mikhail was facing a tough choice whether to go for a champagne or opt for one of the high shelf wines, when Quing burst into the room. The blonde turned from the bar, taking out his gun reflexively, and forget about the alcohol momentarily at the sight that greeted him.

The Chinese looked pissed but that was nothing new. He dragged a man with him though. The captive was gagged, blindfolded and his hands were bound behind his back. He wore Chinese traditional clothes. This must have been the famous Takaba Akihito. And he must have angered Quing pretty much.

Mikhail would lie if he said he wasn’t surprised by the sight. He expected something entirely different. Akihito looked rather like a boy than a grown man.

\- How old is he? – he asked, genuinely curious as Quing tossed the boy unceremoniously on the floor.

\- I don’t know, - shrugged Chinese. – I believe 17 or 18.

\- He’s just a kid…  - mused Mikhail, - Fei Long likes something like this? – he wondered aloud.

The youth turned his head around as if trying to see anything through the blindfold; he cringed, as if expecting to be hit; the beads of sweat pearled on his forehead and his body was wracked with shivers from time to time.

– He seems frightened, take off the blindfold, - said Mikhail.

Quing didn’t look thrilled with the order.

\- You should be careful, he’ll fight back, - he warned but did as Mikhail said nonetheless.

The blindfold fell down and Mikhail was able to see big hazel eyes, made even bigger because of the distress the boy was in. They looked straight at him; the kid didn’t shy away from looking in the eyes.

\- Hmm… He’s got a pretty cute face, - he assessed. - But what about the color of your hair? Did you dye it? – he addressed the boy directly. – Hey, let him speak, - he added as Quing made no gesture to free the kid from any more boundaries.

\- He might make a racket, - commented Quing sourly but stepped in front of the boy to tear away the tape from his mouth.

As soon as the gag was off, the boy slid into a stream of Japanese words. He must have said something offending to Quing for the guy’s face snarled in anger and he hit the boy so hard that the kid landed on the floor. The Chinese ground his boot in the boy’s nape.

Mikhail sprung up from the bar stool. Ivan stepped closer immediately, backing him; the other men straightened, ready to fight, even though their leader had rather a relaxed attitude.

\- Hey, stop it, - demanded Mikhail.

The Chinese took his foot off the boy reluctantly.

 – The poor kid… What did he say to you?

\- I have no idea, - Quing admitted. – But the brat pisses me off so… - he dragged the Japanese up by his clothes, - Look at this. Even though he’s a man, this piece of scum seduces the boss… with his body.

Mikhail leaned back onto the stool again as Quing manhandled the boy so the kid landed right in front of him. The Japanese raised from the ground to a kneeling position, looking upward at Mikhail with the mix of puzzlement and anger.

\- Do you understand English? – asked him Mikhail. – Can you say your name?

The anger overtook bewilderment in the captive’s expression and he barked something in Japanese that Mikhail was quite sure wasn’t his name.

\- Anta dare? – he repeated perplexed.

\- He’s asking who you are, Mikhail, - provided helpfully Yuri from where he stood leaned against the wall.

That annoyed him. Maybe the boy was better when he was shaking from fear. He clearly didn’t understand the power dynamics here. Mikhail leaned down, grabbing the kid by the chin and lifting his face upward.

\- Hey, hey, I’m the one asking questions here. I don’t like how you act, do you understand?

The boy glared up at him rather insolently but didn’t speak any more affronts. Then something below his neck caught Mikhail’s attention. Just beneath his collarbone, where his clothes slipped open from Quing’s rough treatment, was the mark that looked positively like a hickey.

Interest picked, Mikhail touched the bite spot, then let his finger wander to another one as he saw them spreading across the boy’s chest.

\- Did Fei Long do this to you?

He poked another one a little harder. The boy bit his lip. Amused by this, Mikhail slid his hand to the boy’s nipple and pinched it. Takaba’s whole body visibly twitched, there was a flush on his cheeks and he wasn’t looking in the eye anymore, but downward to the floor.

Mikhail laughed.

\- Haha, you react. Looks like you’ve been trained already-

\- Mikhail, - a sharp voice from behind cut in the middle of his fun, - leave it at that. Our goal this time should be the deed. Being a man and doing something like that… have you no shame?

Mikhail ceased to smile, glancing over his shoulder at his uncle.

\- So uptight as usual, Yuri, - he complained. – Get that stick off your ass sometimes. This is Macau, - he whirled around, holding the boy before his chest with one hand, the other still grabbing the gun, - there is nothing I can’t get. See? – he nudged the boy slightly with the secured weapon.

The kid didn’t know it was safeguarded and send him scared looks but Mikhail paid him no mind.

\- We ought to just have fun and not think about the details.

He pulled the boy’s shirt further apart, leaned closer to him and, looking at Yuri, let his hand stroke the man’s chest. His uncle kept his eyes stubbornly apart but Mikhail knew the inner fight he experienced right now. Only a little more provocation was needed. He pinched the boy’s breast and the kid sighted loudly.

\- Look, - Mikhail urged, - he’s cute… Uncle…

\- St.. stop it! – whined the boy and really, he couldn’t do anything better.

Yuri’s control gave up and he looked at them with a frown firstly which was soon replaced by something else. Mikhail went on with his baiting.

\- It’s the body that’s rumored to be fought over between Fei Long and Asami, - he nuzzled the boy’s hair. – Wouldn’t one normally be curious what it’s like? It must be tough for you… Being really interested yet unable to show it on the outside… don’t you find that life really boring?

Suddenly Mikhail yanked the kid to the side, shoving his trousers down his ass with the same hand he held the gun in.

\- Why don’t you try it out? – he offered his uncle with a naughty smile.

\- …knock it off, - grumbled Yuri after a moment of silence, as he found his voice at last. – I don’t have the time to be dealing with your games!

Mikhail snickered at his expression, full of indignation.

\- You’re always like that, Mikhail. Playing around even though you aren’t really interested…

Yuri fretted in the background but Mikhail wasn’t listening to him anymore as he noticed something at the boy’s wrist. He pulled the sleeve up and saw a dragon tattoo there.

\- Hey, Yuri, check it out. He’s got a Baishe tattoo on him… Did Fei Long put that on him? Then it must be true they’re fighting over him… We could use him-

The boy jerked unexpectedly at these words, taking Mikhail by surprise and freeing himself from his grasp. He took few steps back, looking around slightly panicked as Mikhail’s men surrounded him instantly, ready to catch him if he flew.

\- Hey, don’t bother with any futile attempts, - told him Mikhail. – You can’t get away, - he added carelessly, crossing his legs and not even moving from his relaxed stance.

The boy kept looking around, more and more panicked by the second, desperately seeking a way out. There wasn’t any. He shouted something in Japanese once more and dashed toward the nearest gap between two men.

Boris hit him straight in the face, fist connected with the jaw and the boy’s lip split open.

\- Hey, don’t hit him, - growled Mikhail, annoyed.

The kid, unable to block the blow with his tied arms, fell backward at Yuri who steadied him. The kid said shakily a few words in Japanese and Yuri looked at him strangely.

\- We won’t be able to trade him… - Mikhail added by the way of explanation to prevent any further violence, - …for the deed.

\- It’ll be a nuisance if he makes more commotion. I’ll tie his legs and drop him in the other room, - said Yuri, who had his hands on the boy now.

\- Yeah, - waived him off Mikhail, loading his gun. – I guess we’ll get to work. We should find Asami…

Yuri disappeared behind the door with the kid. Mikhail looked around, stilling his gaze on Quing.

\- You’ll contact him.

\- Me?

\- Yeah.

Asami had fought Fei Long himself because of that boy. He was probably furious at the moment. There was no way Mikhail would send someone from his own men to meet him right now. Quing, on the other hand, was an ideal candidate. He was useful, but Mikhail had little sympathy for him after he had betrayed Fei Long.

\- Go, - said Mikhail as the Chinese hesitated. – Call me when you find him, I’ll be on the line.

As Quing stumbled out of the room, Mikhail took out his cell phone. He texted Luc.

‘How’s it going?’

A moment passed then his phone lightened up.

‘I think I saw sb important but he didn’t have it’

‘Keep looking. I’ll keep them entertained.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. Next one will be longer


	18. Chapter 18

At the tell-telling noises, Mikhail went to the smaller room to check how things were working. Or rather probably not-working. He opened the doors without knocking but Yuri didn’t hear him. No wonder, as he was busily grounding his feet into the bounded kid’s crotch, muttering something about sins and seducing. The boy writhed before him on the bed, begging him to stop. Mikhail grimaced in distaste.

Then he leaned onto the doorframe with a sight. Still no reaction from his uncle. Finally he gave up waiting for the other man to notice he was caught red-handed.

“What are you doing, Yuri?”

The other man froze, taking his foot off the boy and straightening immediately. As if falling into position would make his boss forget about what he’d done a moment before.

“Mikhail,” he acknowledged half looking over his shoulder.

Mikhail measured him with a hard gaze. Yuri grew nervous under it. The blonde could see his inner discomfort at disobeying the unspoken order. No consideration for the boy of course, but the guilty feeling of letting down his leader.

Mikhail considered briefly it this one episode would be enough to stop him from further transgressions or if he will let himself be provoked by the kid as soon as Mikhail will turn his back on him. Probably he could assign someone else to keep a watch over the boy but Mikhail didn’t really want his uncle around while he would get to his plans… Enjoying Feilong’s company – and sight – felt far much better without Yuri’s repulsed expressions in the background.

Still, it was better to do some attempt at least at preventing the further possible violence.

“…He’s a valuable tool for the trading deal,” Mikhail started from the reasonable side for whatever his uncle was, he was a rational man. That is, at times when he controlled himself. “Don’t harm him,” he ordered.

“Yeah… I know,” Yuri’s face snarled as he was told the obvious.

Mikhail kept scrutinizing eye on him.

“...tape his mouth shut,” he said, turning away. “It’ll be a pain if he makes too much noise.”

Maybe if the kid was gagged and thus stopped from throwing insults at his captors, he wouldn’t provoke Yuri enough to hit him again. It could also help to leave one more man behind to keep an eye on both Yuri and the captive boy.

“Yeah,” Mikhail heard Yuri saying after him.

If Yuri would just fuck the pretty boy like any normal guy at his place would do, it’d be so much easier. That was obviously boy’s purpose as both Asami and Fei used him in this way. Also, it shouldn’t bother Asami too much if he was after the boy even if his pet probably got raped by Asami’s enemy more than ones at this point. Thinking of which, such affection was strange. Asami could just pick up another boy on the street instead of wasting time, money and other resources on retrieving this one.

But Mikhail wasn’t about to complain when this provided him a chance to get something for his party.

 

* * *

 

 

Luc decided to try the direction Asami had went in. Judging from their argument – the non-exlovers part – it was a right decision. He pushed his way via narrow space, looking through every crate he passed. He nearly lost hope when he met a crossing, a solid wall before him and the corridor splitting in two directions. He risked choosing one of them.

He was lucky this night, he thought as he caught a sight of Asami briefly, walking somewhere. He scrutinized the surrounding carefully, as much as the narrow slits of a crate allowed him. There! One man in the crowd looked at Asami’s retreating back. Luc concentrated on him. He wore a suit and glasses though because of his short hair and brawny built he looked like a bodyguard. At his feet laid a folder.

 

* * *

 

 

Mikhail’s phone buzzed. He looked down to see Quing calling. Finally.

When he picked up, a silence greeted him instead of some kind of salute. He frowned, the Chinese was really irritating, forgetting his place constantly.

“…were you able to meet up with Asami?” Mikhail started at least.

More silence answered him. Mikhail’s irritation turned into confusion. Something was not right.

“…Mikhail!” sounded the voice on the other side of the line, furious and definitely not belonging to Quing.

Recognizing it, Mikhail smiled broadly.

“Hey there! So you’re still ok? I’m glad you didn’t get taken down by Feilong’s henchmen.”

Yet more silence. Somehow, this time it felt filled with anger. Amazing how the guy could create such an atmosphere at the distance.

“…so you’re the one who got in my way…?”

It was more of a statement than a question. Mikhail answered anyway.

“’Got in your way?’ Well, that’s regrettable… You guys are the ones that stormed in this place practically unarmed…now that’s rash.” Mikhail purposefully took on a tone as if he was lecturing a child. “You know yourself that Feilong’s organization cannot be taken down so easily. If you had gone with the trade-off as agreed, you would’ve definitely end up killed. But we protected your precious Takaba-kun,” he added, regretting that he wasn’t able to see the other man’s face at the mention of his lost pet.

Though the tone of Asami’s rage filled voice was rather rewarding too.

“I gave you what you wanted. It wasn’t enough?” the Japanese hissed.

“It’s true…” mused Mikhail, remembering their dinner in a restaurant, the check and a shipment of ammunition delivered later. “It was more than enough money and firepower in exchange for information on the banks in Macau. I was quite content with it. But when it comes to you getting the hold of that deed by using secret safes from the list I gave you, that’s a different story. I didn’t think you could’ve possibly gotten it sooner than me. You see, we were after that casino from quite some time. Surely you didn’t expect us to just sit idle and do nothing?”

Asami just listened to him, saying nothing. Mikhail, with a little smile never leaving his lips, leaned back onto the bar comfortably and continued his story.

“So it’s only natural we’d try to pull something from this exchange too. You must knew that getting into a fight with us was a high possibility… does Takaba-kun really have this much value to risk a war? On your place, I would rather-”

“Hey,” interrupted him Asami suddenly. Curious that only bringing up the kid’s topic moved him enough. Asami spoke in a ragged voice, too mad to build a comprehensive statement. Mikhail was having a great time at that. “Are you… trying to piss me off…?”

“You’re already pissed off. So scary,” mocked Mikhail.

“…put Takaba on the line. Once I know he’s okay, I’ll hand the paper over.”

Mikhail was about to make him aware of the fact he wasn’t in a position to do demands but the proposition of giving him the deed made him change his mind. Maybe it’ll all be easier than he had originally thought.

“Fine. Unlike Feilong, I like to be rational. Hey, Yuri,” he called to the other room, heading there with a phone, “he wants Takaba-kun on the line.”

As Mikhail walked in this time the boy laid on the bed, asleep or unconscious, probably the former as he hardly looked worse than before. It didn’t seem like Yuri done anything more to him but maybe the lad just fainted from exhaustion.

Yuri woke him up roughly, slapping his face as the boy didn’t react to his voice. Mikhail wisely didn’t mention anything about hitting this time when Asami could hear everything on the other side of the line. And, true be told, rousing from sleep like that didn’t really count as beating.

\- Get to the phone, let him hear your voice, - urged Yuri, ungently tearing the tape away from Takaba’s mouth.

The kid’s eyes grew large as he heard Asami’s voice through the phone. His expression shattered, his cheeks flushed imperceptibly and tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

\- A..asa…Asami..? – he whispered in a shaken voice.

The Japan mobster said something to him.

\- I…I’m fine now, - Takaba said in Japanese, his voice still trembling. – But… someone was shot before... just next to me and… t-take me to Japan-

Yuri snatched the phone away from him before the boy could whine some more, putting them in a bad light. Mikhail took the phone over immediately.

\- See? He seems fine. If I wouldn’t protect him, he wouldn’t have been.

\- …where are you?

\- Let’s meet in a game room at third floor, the one near the stern. It’s vip so should be uncrowded.

\- Fine, - gritted Asami in a dark voice and hung up.

 

* * *

 

 

Luc burst into the room occupied by Russians, catching a breath from a run and looking around. Mikhail was nowhere to be seen, most of them also disappeared somewhere.

Yuri stood by the bathroom door, the splashing water from inside suggested someone was inside. The Russian looked like he guarded someone and wasn’t overly happy for it. So, occupied probably. It wouldn’t do. (Which, if Luc was honest with himself, maybe was for the better.)

Ivan was there too, sitting at the high tool near the bar, watching Luc with questioning expression.

\- Ivan, - said Luc breathless. – I- - he inhaled, - could use some help. I was wondering if you-

Ivan jumped from the stool.

\- Sure, - he said, walking to Luc standing in the door. – You’ve got it here? – he asked Yuri over his shoulder.

The older man waived his hand dismissively.

\- Of course, he’s just one kid. I’ll be fine on my own.

Luc frowned a little at their exchange but before he could ask about it, Ivan led him out to the corridor and addressed him, making him refocus on his own task.

\- What exactly do you need from me?

\- A diversion.


	19. Chapter 19

The Russian party walked into the small casino room. Mikhail loitered by the door as his men spilled inside. As he had thought, there weren’t much people present. Just two gamers, one with a girl; and the few workers from the personnel.

Boris walked straight to the card table, asking the players to leave. The girl seemed the smartest as she stood up at once, looking around, taking in Boris’ stance, Mikhail position by the door, Sergei busily lowering curtains in the windows. She fled the room, barely stopping to gather her chips and totally ignoring her partner’s complaints.

One man protested loudly, the other ignored them at first. They soon changed the approach as Boris pulled the gun to the older guy’s head and smashed the other’s face in the table. After that they had no more problems with complying with the Russians’ request.

Sergei handed piles of money to the wide-eyed stuff and that convinced them to stay.

\- Don’t worry, we just want to hang around for a while in a relative peace. We won’t cause much more trouble, - explained Mikhail with a smile. – Sergei, take a watch by the door. Asami should be here any time now. Let in only him, unarmed.

The other blonde nodded and walked out. Mikhail spotted a waitress that just came in with a tray and a drink and clearly didn’t know what to do with it as the customer who had ordered it wasn’t there anymore.

\- I’ll take that, hunny, - Mikhail said, relieving her of the drink and sat by the blackjack table with it.

The croupier girl wasn’t bad looking (nowhere near as beautiful as Feilong of course) but as she ignored his few attempts at starting a small talk, Mikhail gave up and just watched her tidying up the scattered chips and waited for Asami to arrive.

He didn’t have to wait long. He wasn’t even halfway his drink as he heard Sergei at the entrance.

\- You must be Asami. I’ll take your gun. Whoa, hey! The bodyguard stays outside.

Asami marched into the room and the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Mikhail glanced at him around his shoulder.

\- Yo, - he grinned at the Japanese. – Wanna take a seat? Why don’t you join me for a card game?

Asami scowled at him, put his folder down with much more force than necessary, and sat down without a word. It was an openly angry, aggressive attitude instead of usual cold composed one. Mikhail’s smile faltered. Something was off. Asami looked like a man that just…

\- …you smell of blood, - commented Russian. – What of the guy I sent to you?

Asami sent him a stare that told him the Chinese would probably never be seen among the living again.

Well, good thing he didn’t send one of his own men.

Asami took out a cigarette and slipped a hand inside his jacket to retrieve a lighter but Mikhail was quicker in passing him a fire. Asami glared at him incredulously as if he didn’t expect a simple personal culture from the Russian but his hand let go of his suit and, after a moment of surprise, he leaned closer to Mikhail’s hand and ignited his cigarette. The fire danced in his golden eyes as his face was lit briefly.

Judging he was nice long enough, and that Asami could calm down by nicotine somewhat, Mikhail started a conversation.

\- ...considering it’s Feilong’s ship, you’ve got a nerve. Do you have any idea as how to end it without getting hurt?

Still scowling, Asami answered in a voice cold and firm as a steel.

\- Tonight I’m going to take Takaba and go off this ship. If that can’t be done, I’ll put bullets through your heads and turn this place into a graveyard.

Mikhail glanced at him, genuinely interested at his choice of words and at this display of emotions. Boris was at him when Asami barely finished his threat, putting an unlocked gun to his head. The Japanese glanced sideways as the barrel touched his skull, away from Mikhail, but didn’t move otherwise.

\- That’s impossible, - told him Mikhail finally. – I’m sorry but until I get what I want, I’ll have you quietly remain here, - he said, thinking briefly how Lucas was making out. – But don’t get me wrong. Things will go just the way I said during our phone talk. I just wanted to stay connected with a wonderful man who is trying to throw everything away for love. This place is under Fei Long’s command… if you do anything rush…

There was a commotion near the door, Mikhail stopped talking, Boris turned with his gun away from Asami, uncertain what to do, as they heard the sound of a punch or a powerful kick and Sergei’s muffled yelp of pain.

Fei Long strode into the room.

\- …a secret meeting with just the two of you? Looks like fun, I think I’ll join.

\- There, see? He’s here, - Mikhail said to Asami, ending his previous point, gesticulating toward the Baishe’s leader. – Please, - he addressed the Chinese himself, indicating a chair next to him, now glad that Asami sat further.

Fei Long walked closer, equally annoyed, but with far more grace than Asami. He took a seat and crossed his arms. He looked gorgeous even with his thin eyebrows creased into a frown and a clearly displeased expression. Mikhail actually turned sideways to have a better look but then he realized he was staring.

\- … it’s extremely rare of us to gather, - he said. – What do you say to us three having one game? – he turned back to the banker girl, but caught an angry look Fei Long send his way.

\- Stop fooling around. Return Akihito, Mikhail, - the Baishe leader hissed.

Mikhail, aware of his piercing gaze still focused on him, raised a hand to the banker.

\- Five thousand chips, ‘kay?

\- Where do you intend to pass him on? – Feilong sounded angrier for being ignored. – I’ll not forgive you for doing as you please and undermining me.

At that Mikhail looked at him again.

\- You make me sound so bad, Feilong. You were able to weed out the traitors in your organization thanks to me.

And that was the truth, really. Quing now and Jiang earlier… that one of them was shot by Asami and the other a rat send by Mikhail himself was irrelevant. There were also some associates of Quing and Asami must had some spies too. They were all probably dead by now and, if not fully, then at least partially it was Mikhail’s contribution.

\- Besides, - enumerated Mikhail, - I kept your love, Ryuichi Asami, from being taken down by your subordinates. You really ought to be thanking me.

Fei Long’s face snarled into a pure fury mask now.

\- What are you talking about?

That he reacted so strongly to Mikhail’s bait wasn’t a very good sign. But now Mikhail had a chance to finally find out everything he wanted to know and he was determined to use it to the fullest.

\- Yeah… while we are at it, I wanted to ask… I don’t understand. Feilong, you’re so fixated on Ryuichi, yet why were you fighting over Takaba-kun with him? Do you want to get this man’s attention so much? Getting a civilian like that involved…

\- Why you- - started Feilong, peeved.

\- Snap out of it, Feilong, he can read right through you, - continued Mikhail lively, - Asami came on this ship knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to follow through till the end. He’s the type of person that would step over someone and use their feelings.

Asami sat only a meter away, smoking and glancing at them darkly but Mikhail spared that no mind. Fei Long was the only one that mattered. And if Mikhail could make him open his eyes, then angering Asami or the whole yakuza didn’t count.

\- What business is it of yours? – asked Feilong.

\- Plenty. It’s enough to make your subordinates come crying to me. Besides… I’m interested… in what’s going on with the two of you now.

Mikhail considered the other men carefully. Asami was looking away, his face back to the usual lack of expression, nothing outstanding like in Takaba’s case. Fei Long, however, stared down at the table, with a touch of melancholy in his eyes, with the sad line of his mouth. It didn’t seem like an unfulfilled desire, though, or at least not wholly. It would be vexing that Asami was the cause of it, if it wasn’t downright disarming.

\- What’s with that face? – said Mikhail, resting his chin on his hands, melting at the sight. – Don’t misunderstand me. I’m just saying I’d be troubled if you two get together, - he clarified.

Fei Long turned in his direction so gustily, he nearly leapt up from the chair, agitated. Asami’s head snapped up.

\- Why…! You!- - started Feilong but Asami got in his word, with far more composure.

\- This is bullshit, - he summed up. – If you want to hit on him, go somewhere else.

\- …but it looks like there is nothing to worry about, - smirked Mikhail. – The Asami now doesn’t seem to have any interest in you… Frankly, it must be an insult he would prefer someone with no real merit like Takaba-kun… over Feilong, who’s the head of Hong-Kong underworld.

\- Don’t speak of Akihito by you standards, - snapped Feilong at him. – You’re nothing but scum that judges people’s worth by whether they bring profits or no.

The word ‘scum’ stung a little bit but Mikhail supposed Feilong must been offended now by him pointing out few accurate things concerning Asami and their relations, so it was only natural he wanted to hurt in return. The next words confirmed it, promising a back fight.

\- Let me make this clear… I have no intention of just letting Asami go after he had stolen the deed. That goes for you too, Mikhail, for taking Akihito. Once I get both back, be prepared, I’ll show you-

\- Hey, - Asami’s voice cut in into his war speech. – Takaba Akihito is mine. Not yours.

Short, decisive sentences. Carried by an opinionated voice. Making his point short, simple and clear.

Fei Long glanced at him and their gazes locked, each trying to stare the other down in a duel of two alpha males. Like the opponents fighting for absolute power. The victor would take the spoils, including Takaba.

Mikhail watched it, chuffed, propping his chin on his hand. This was so amusing _._

 

* * *

 

 Kirishima stood near the barrier at the upper deck, a lonely figure in the outside, glancing into the waters turned completely black by the night and trying to fight off the stupid parallels from ‘Titanic' his mind supplied. They were not going to sink, not even metaphorically.

He wondered how Asami was doing and who would Russians send to contact him. Asami would probably not be allowed to call Kirishima himself. The faithful servant could only hope everything will go smoothly and Takaba soon will be here.

He noticed a man coming onto his deck. Was it the agent? But he was alone; the boy nowhere in sight. Then Kirishima noticed him swaying and moving forward again, but not in an exactly straight line. Probably just some customer of the casino that had drunk too much. Kirishima raised the folder from the ground at his feet, just to be safe.

As the man was passing him, he dropped to the side suddenly, falling onto Kirishima. The Japanese hit the barrier, leaned out too far. He grasped at the fence, automatically, the folder slipped from his hands.

\- Sorry, - the man slurred into his ear, his breath scented of alcohol.

Kirishima managed to maintain his balance, despite the other man still clinging to him, apparently treating him like a pillar to help himself stand upright. The Japanese tried to shove him off but the man’s grip was suspiciously strong and, despite it seemingly being clumsy, he held Kirishima in all strategic places.

They tussled at the edge of the deck, the other’s man foot nudged the folder. Before Kirishima’s aghast gaze, it toppled at the verge for excruciating second before falling down onto the lower deck.

Kirishima pushed the attacker with renewed strength, cursing him and freeing himself from the grip. The other man landed on the floor. Kirishima paid him no mind, just leaned over the barrier to confirm where the folder was. It seemed intact. The Japanese rushed to the closest stairs nonetheless.

Ivan waited till the man disappeared from the sight, before standing up, flicking his clothes and walking away normally this time.

 

* * *

 

 One deck below Luc placed the folder again on the place where it fell and retreated hastily, hearing someone running in his direction. He darted into the nearest room, ducking down to not to be visible through the window.

He sat against the wall, heart hammering fast, and listened. The steps come to a halt where the folder laid. Someone picked it up. The rustle of the papers sounded as if someone was checking the content.

Finally the steps backed away slowly and only then Luc let out his breath.

 

* * *

 

 - Aw… crap, banker wins again, - said Mikhail after another lost round. – Hey, haven’t you been betting at the banker each time? – he looked suspiciously at Fei Long. – Isn’t that-

\- Hmmph, - grunted Baishe leader noncommittedly.

Asami was busily checking his watch every few minutes, too nervous to focus on the game properly. He smoked his third cigarette. Something else was needed to distract his attention lest he’d made a rush move, spoiling Mikhail’s plans. And what better suiting thing to fulfill this task if not Asami’s wayward pet?

\- So, our poor Takaba got unwillingly caught up in big mess, - started the Russian conversationally. – This is basically just personal fight between Fei Long and Asami, right? It’s not easy to get caught in the cross-fire. We have a guy too… - he mused, thinking of Yuri, - that denies his own feelings so much, represses his desires… - he yanked his clothes off one shoulder, revealing part of the bare skin on his back, covered in welts, - thanks to that, see?

Fei Long’s eyes locked onto the scars, even Asami peeped out from his corner of the table to take a look over Fei Long’s shoulder. Mikhail was the only one smiling.

\- The way I see it, nothing good comes from killing your own feelings. We have the power to do whatever we want whenever we want. We should use it without holding back.

He kept his voice light and optimistic. Fei Long spoke up in a more serious tone.

\- The way I see it, you’re pretty messed up too…

\- And so we have three messed up guys gathering together to gamble, - finished Mikhail carefree, pushing the pile of chips to the banker. – Isn’t this fun? No matter how fixated you become on something, it’s nothing but a game played on a table.

 

* * *

 

 Ivan was on his way to the room they kept the boy in when he heard gunshots. He quickened his pace and reached the place of the firefight just in time to see the man he had previously harassed lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

The redhead frowned. What the… that was not in the plan. What was Yurij doing? If it was his doing, that is. There was no Russians nearby, no folder, no boy.

The man on ground stirred and sat up slowly. Good, he lived then, thought Ivan, stopping at the distance so he would not be seen. It was usually easier to patch things up when the semi-important men involved lived. The Japanese reached for his phone that laid scattered on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 Asami picked up his phone, relieved to hear Kirishima on the other side on the line. Akihito was safe, they would soon head home together, leaving all this mess behind. Kirishima was saying the exchange was completed, the Russians got the deed. And even if it wasn’t the best way Asami would like to see things go, the most important thing was that Takaba was okay. Who got the casino didn’t matter in the slightest compared to that one fact.

But then he heard gunshots and all his happiness dissolved, replaced by the fury and the tiny touch of fear. He shot up from his chair.

\- Kirishima?! – he shouted to the cell phone. – Hey, Kirishima!

No answer.

Face darkened by anger, Asami yanked a gun from his jacket, unlocked it and put to Arbatov’s head. Mikhail’s head swung to the side at the force of it, blond locks spilling at the sudden movement. Fei Long darted up from his seat, looking concerned at the development of the situation. The Russian guard in the room, visibly panicking, aimed his gun at Asami, shouting at him. But the only thing Asami heard was the echo of the shots inside his head; and the only thing he saw was the man responsible for it, sitting before him, at his gunpoint.

\- I told you that if anything happens to Takaba, I’ll kill you!

Mikhail, for his part, seemed unmoved.  He didn’t sweat, he didn’t tremble, wasn’t protesting or making any move to shove the gun barrel away from himself. He wasn’t afraid in the slightest and the look he shot Asami from under the weapon was unimpressed.

\- Hey, hey. I also told you that guns are to be confiscated. I didn’t give any orders. The plan was to make it a simple trade-off, without any of us getting his hands dirty. After all, I was able to divert Fei Long’s attention…

That moment a voice sounded from the cell phone and Asami stopped to listen to Arbatov.

“Boss,” crackled the line. “I’m sorry. I was shot and I lost consciousness for a while. I can’t see Takaba anywhere and my gun also disappeared…”

\- Asami, it seems they’re at the stern, - said Feilong, switching off his own cell, turning to walk out.

Asami whirled around, leaving Arbatov, and passed Feilong on his way to the door. The Russian outside tried to stop him but the Japanese hit him with the gun butt in the face, sending him to the floor.

Mikhail, left alone at the card table, finished his drink. He didn’t feel like chasing with the others through the ship, gun in hand. If Luc or Yuri didn’t succeed, it was too late to fix it now anyway.

\- They didn’t even finish the game, - he commented to the banker, gathering his chips. – try to change them, will you? – he threw his prize to Boris and went to check on Sergei.

His men laid in the threshold but stirred as Mikhail shook his shoulder.

\- Hey, you all right there?

\- Ugh, think so… I just gotta say, - he switched to Russian, - I really hate your Asians. First kicking the man, then treating him with a gun butt, - he touched his jaw carefully.

Mikhail laughed.

\- Well, that second chunk is your own fault partially. You should have searched him more carefully.

 

* * *

 

 Asami was fusing over his pet, who laid on the floor, seemingly shot. Feilong loitered few steps behind.

Then Takaba-kun stirred, sat up and they were talking, hugging and kissing with Asami. Like on a fucking soap opera, thought Mikhail, watching the scene from few decks above; Ivan, Boris and Sergei at his back already. He got a little bit nervous as he noticed the Japanese have the folder when they finally parted from each other. But that didn’t tell undeniably of the outcome of the situation yet. Luc and Yuri didn’t come back yet.

The situation below turned full on drama as Asami and Feilong seemed to argue, angry with each other, each taking out a gun; and Takaba-kun jumping between them, shouting at them both.

But the interesting mode turned out to be short lived as the kid handed the folder to Feilong and headed with Asami to their smaller boat, waiting at the ship’s side.

\- That’s it? – commented Mikhail, disappointment clear in his voice. – How boring. They each got what they were after, nothing unexpected ensued… - he looked to the side, hearing someone’s coming and saw Lucas joining them. – You got it?

The Macanese youth put a hand on his chest briefly and nodded. Mikhail smiled at him and the kid returned it feebly.

Luc felt his heart stammering too quickly still, his blood running too hot and his nerves still unsettled but at the sight of approval in his boss’ eyes it all ceased to matter.

\- Time to go, - urged them Mikhail, turning from the rail. – Where is Yuri? – he asked as he took in their belittled number.

\- He was shot, - spoke up Ivan uncomfortably.

Luc saw Mikhail’s form going tense at this.

\- You saw it? – he asked in a strangely for him, not-lighthearted voice.

Ivan looked even more unsettled under his leader’s gaze.

\- I’d help him but I got here too late. I only came in time to see him falling off the ship. And I didn’t want to start another gunfire, you said-

Mikhail hushed him.

\- Let’s go, - Luc’s boss said in that untypical tone again. – Better get out of here while we still can.

 

* * *

 

 Fei Long gazed into the waters of Tokyo Bay in the direction where Asami’s boat disappeared, taking Akihito away. He turned as someone approached him.

\- Yoh… Why are you here? How?

\- I had some unfinished business.

\- I’m surprised you are still alive. Why didn’t you escape? Do you think I’ll forgive you? – Fei Long’s face twisted in an angry grimace.

\- I didn’t come here to ask for forgiveness, - the traitor had a gun in his hand, hanging loosely by his side. – But I made a promise once… I intend to keep it. If I am to die, I’d rather die at your hand, - he handed the Baishe’s leader his own gun.

Fei Long looked at it for a moment, taken aback, then took the gun in his hand but hid his eyes beneath his eyelids, making no move to shot Yoh.

\- What, am I supposed to say this is very noble of you?

Yoh kept silent. Fei Long raised the gun, aiming at him. But then he remembered something that Akihito had told him.

\- Is this the only way to solve things?

\- This is the only way for those whose heart was stolen by you, - said Yoh. – A person’s heart is difficult to understand… What changes if you confess your feelings to someone if in the end they won’t become yours?

Fei Long lowered the gun and turned back to the sea.

\- Who are you talking about now? – he asked. – Yourself? Asami? Akihito…? What does it matter, he sailed away.

Yoh was quiet for a long time, then moved closer hesitantly, standing next to the Baishe’s leader.

\- Not everything’s lost, - he said after another long moment of silence. – If I may… You lost Akihito but you reclaimed your family’s casino-

Fei Long shifted at his side suddenly, as if some thought struck him. He reached down for the folder and yanked it open. He flipped through the papers madly in front of the surprised stare from Yoh. His face darkened by the minute, brows creased into the deeper frown. Yoh longed to ask what was it but he reasonably kept his mouth shut.

\- That fucking scum, - hissed Fei Long. Yoh wasn’t sure which one of the mobsters he meant but then the Chinese clarified, - that debased Slavic scoundrel!  

Fei Long trashed the folder to the ground.

\- It’s fake! He stole the original. It must have been him… Asami was too preoccupied with Akihito but Mikhail… and he had the gall to pretend he was concerned by my sake. That rat! Worrying for me ostensibly while at the same time his men stole the papers from under my nose. He’ll regret it, - he said in a determined voice. – I’ll make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. Tokyo events completed at least. With a slight change from the original and a proper Pirates of the Caribbean ending.
> 
> Now this will stray away from the manga for some time but the action will still be there.


	20. Chapter 20

The party so far was the best Luc had in his whole life. It was their victory celebration.

 It started shortly after they arrived safely to the Macau mansion (everyone sans Yuri but Luc would hardly notice that to be honest if not for Mikhail in a strange brooding mood). Then Mikhail, smiling once more, raised the deed above his head for everyone to see; with his other hand he grabbed Luc and pulled him close to himself, announcing something to his men. He spoke Russian and Luc make out only the words such as "victory", "hero" and "play" but from it and the others’ cheers and whistles it wasn't hard to guess it was a praise and an incentive to celebration.

Several champagnes get uncorked with loud bumps, the air filled with clinking of a glass and the murmured toasts.

Luc's knees almost gave up as Mikhail, still holding his arm hooked around Luc's shoulders, leaned closer to him and whispered "you did well, Lucas" straight to his ear before kissing him soundly in the cheek and releasing him. Luc stayed frozen in place even after the Russian let him go, walking away. He was speechless and blind and deaf to everything around him besides Mikhail's retreating figure.

\- Here, - the close voice tore him out of his reverie and a glass with champagne was presented to him.

He took it, murmuring thanks, and emptied in one gulp. Ivan laughed and refilled his cup. Luc noticed he got the whole bottle.

\- It surely needs to be celebrated properly but you might consider slowing down a bit if you want to last the remaining of the night.

Irine approached them, stealing Ivan's glass unceremoniously.

\- Let him have some fun, love. It's his celebration after all. From what I heard Misha saying.

\- How come you're here so quickly? Weren't you asleep?

\- It's impossible to sleep with you guys shouting down here. Couldn't close an eye earlier too, as I was worried over you, knowing how you always manage to involve yourself in most riskiest situations.

\- That's not true - denied Ivan, wounded, just as Luc said:

\- If he didn't risk I wouldn't get a hold of these papers.

They laughed at the timing.

\- But seriously, - said Luc, - it's more your contribution than mine. Or at least fifty-fifty - he added as Ivan opened his mouth to protest.

\- So, will you two fill me in at last? I'd love to know in details what happened.

So Luc told her his part of the story, with Ivan adding the details of his involvement.

Suddenly Luc felt a pair of hands grabbing him from behind and hauling backwards and he trashed instinctively, freeing himself and whirling around, ready for a fight. His fists clenched as he saw one of the men that beat him that memorable day. Boris he thought was his name. But the tattooed guy was smiling at him, saying something in Russian in a rather friendly tone.

Irine touched Luc's arm lightly.

\- Relax, he doesn't mean anything bad. Go with them, it will be fun.

Luc wasn't convinced but listened to her anyway. He was sure by now Mikhail's men won't hurt him, even if he couldn't see their leader anywhere.

As Luc stepped closer to the waiting group, he was handed a new glass of alcohol immediately.  Something stronger this time he judged after one sip. Several hands clasped him by the shoulder, others clapped his back and said their regards to him.

He nodded and answered them as best as he could, in English, sometimes adding ‘spasibo’ as he learned was Russian ‘thank you’.

But at the same time he felt like he shouldn't really get such regard from them. After all he did only his little part of Mikhail's plan. If someone, then Mikhail or Ivan or even Yuri should be tonight's hero from what Luc knew. But Mikhail disappeared somewhere, Ivan was completely absorbed with his fiancée, Yuri didn't come back at all... And to admit the truth Luc was secretly pleased with all the attention and admiration concentrated on him.

He took another sip from his glass realizing it's almost empty. Maybe he really should listen to Ivan and slow down... He didn't have time to wonder about that as he was hauled up all of a sudden, the glass slipping from his hand and breaking on the ground. Nobody seemed to care for it.

\- Wait! What are you-

He was lifted by two men and held in the air, above the crowd, sat on their shoulders. He swayed but they held him firmly so Luc relaxed looked around with a wide smile. Among the gathering in the hall he saw Ivan pointing in his direction, showing him to Irine and she smiled at him and winked.

Some hand holding new glass filled with liquid appeared before him and Luc took it carefully, drowning the content. He shouted his thanks to the one who passed it to him and wanted to give the glass back but there wasn't anyone waiting for it.

He would like to have both hands free as he held himself upright with only one arm now, supporting it on someone's head. Though the two guys that grabbed him held him like he weighted nothing at all, he would felt more confident having his both hands free.

\- Just crash it! – shouted at him one of the girls in her bra and very short shorts only.

Luc, little heady by now, listened to her. The new crash of glass earned him appreciative howls from the drunken crowd below.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night Luc, swaying, but just lightly!, walked out of the hall heavy with cigarette smoke and alcohol fumes and stepped into the blissfully fresh (in comparison) air of the night. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes.

Only when he opened them (and the horizon leveled) he noticed a lonely figure sitting at the far edge of swimming pool, legs hung just above the water. Blond hair reflected the lights from the house. He still wore the black leather jacket he had put on the action, two gold earrings glistened on one ear shelf (‘you must look pirate enough when boarding the ship’, he had said earlier as he was putting them on).

Luc took one step closer but stopped himself. Something was off in the line of Mikhail's slumped shoulders, in the lack of company at his side. It was so different to what Luc was used to by now; to what he witnessed a moment, or maybe hours?, ago as Mikhail pulled him close and kissed in the cheek, and nuzzled his hair almost as he was whispering to his ear...

No, no, no, chided himself Luc, you won't go this way. But his addled brain refused to listen to reason and presented all sequence of disquieting images, mixing reality with fantasy.

_Mikhail holding him in the water, whispering to him, ‘you can breathe now’._

_Mikhail half naked in a hotel room, pressing him to the wall wearing only a towel and a naughty smile._

_‘Would you want us to have sex, Lucas? There always is the first time.’_

_Fingers sliding through the inside of his tights, over the straps pressing into the skin._

_Strong arms around him, mouths nuzzling his hair, moving lower, to his face._

Luc shook his head, causing world to whirl around but at least shaking off the unwanted thoughts as well. The suspiciously arousing thoughts. No, stop. He would have to give it some consideration once he was sober again. Now was not the time for it. He was in no state to form a logic sentence in his own head.

What remained, however, was the general conviction that going to Mikhail was an awesome idea. He never felt as good around anyone as when he did in Mikhail’s presence. He wouldn’t mind a little of that hugging and kissing from earlier also…

But Mikhail looked sad, he reflected, staring at the Russian’s remote form, as the blonde raised the bottle he held in his hand and drunk straight from it. It looked like vodka.

The new idea appeared in Luc’s mind – if Mikhail was sad, he would cheer him up! – and in his intoxicated state he judged it an awesome one.

Decided, he made one step forward as someone yanked him back. He opened his mouth to protest loudly but a feminine hand clasped on it.

\- Don’t be so harsh, Nastya, - chided Irine silently as she came in Luc’s vision, glancing in the direction of Mikhail as if to make sure he didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t possible in Luc’s opinion as the roar of drunk crowd coming from the inside was so loud it drowned any other sound.

\- Let him breathe, for God’s sake, - hissed Irine as she saw her friend still holding Luc’s mouth.

\- You wanted it handled quietly.

\- That was not what I meant!

Luc was finally released.

\- What- - he started.

His mouth was clasped again in warning.

\- You stay quiet, boy, - growled Nastya in his ear.

Irine made a face and the other girl let Luc go completely at last. Only then, with a quick apologizing look at Lucas, Irine left them. She walked silently to where Mikhail sat.

Nastya pulled Luc back to the stuffed interior.

\- Ok, stop that! – Luc made it to yank out of her grip but it wasn’t so easy as her light form suggested.

She measured him a pointed stare and only after a short moment, as if to show him whose better at fight here, let go of his wrist.

\- What was that all about? – asked Luc, massaging his wrist.

\- Ivan told her Yuri’s probably dead. So she panicked and yelled at him for not telling her earlier and went to search for Misha.

\- Oh… - shit, Luc cannot believe he had almost forgot about that!

He glanced out of the glass door to see Irine sitting down next to his boss already, talking to him.

– But… why he’s so affected by it?

Nastya looked at him strangely and Luc hastened to add:

\- I mean, I know that’s his uncle and I don’t want to sound unfeeling… But… Yuri didn’t seem– Luc concentrated on choosing the right words. Damn, it was so hard to find any after consuming such amount of drinks. – He wasn’t a nice person, - he finished at last.

Nastya stared at him as if she wanted to see his very soul or, maybe even more probable in her case, to bore a hole through his body with her eyes only. Luc didn’t know if she found what he searched but she shrugged at least, looking away.

Following her gaze, Luc saw the pair at the swimming pool once more, this time Irine having one her lean arm wrapped around Mikhail’s broad back, sweeping the fingers of her other hand through his hair. He held his head on her shoulder, the almost empty bottle stood by their side.

\- I don’t know, - said Nastya at last. - I’m not here for so long as Inka, who practically grew up with Misha. I only know, - she looked around, as if checking nobody was listening and then lowered her voice confidently, - that Yuri was the one who left those scars on Misha’s back.


	21. Chapter 21

The next day morning was terrible. Luc didn't remember having such a headache in his entire life. He woke up in his given room, not quite sure how he got there last night. Light coming through the window was too bright. Noises from the house too loud.

Only the promising smell of scramble eggs coming from downstairs convinced him to leave the bed. That, and the fact he still had his clothes from last night at himself.

He went down only after taking a shower, finding the kitchen by the appetizing smell. There he realized it wasn't morning - it was half past noon already.

\- Hard night? – beamed Ivan at him, far too loud for Luc’s liking.

The Macanese send him a dark glare in retaliation, half-expecting to hear some Mikhail’s comment at that, like ‘you look pretty sexy when you’re angry’ for the Russian never let the occasion for a pun be wasted. That made Luc aware Mikhail wasn’t there despite the fact the kitchen was a little crowded.

That, in turn, brought his mind to the last night. And Mikhail. And his thoughts about him. God, he didn’t do anything stupid, did he?

Ivan slid him a plate of scrambled eggs and Luc took it hastily, content he has something to hid behind. The talk in the kitchen wasn’t very lively (apparently Luc wasn’t the only one that overdo a little bit last night) and most of it went in Russian anyway. Nobody paid particular attention to him and Luc was grateful for that.

He remembered seeing Mikhail at the pool edge and the craving to go to him and… No, better not to think what he would do then. Or say. Good thing girls interrupted then, it might have ended in a very undesirable way.

Did he actually wondered, if he was to go sit by Mikhail’s side, the other man would hug him? As he did earlier before everyone’s eyes… and even kissed him in the cheek and- _Fuck, get the hold of yourself, man_ , Luc chided himself angrily. _You don’t want a romantic cuddling by the water at night._

But the fact remained, Luc had to admit, what he felt went s little beyond the simple respect and admiration for the older man. Sure, he was a successful person, he got money and position; people seemed to know him and reckon with him everywhere he appeared; he was a winner in a life, nothing seemed too unobtainable for him. That was everything Luc wanted to achieve.

But he was one hell of attractive man to that. Luc saw glances other people sent his way. Caught himself at staring at him a few times. And the looks alone weren’t even the most important thing about that attraction he created (though it helped a lot too – one could drink in his appearance for hours). The most important thing was his attitude, always merry, relaxed, easy-going, open for everyone. He didn’t use his power to intimidate other people. He made them feel good in his presence, treating them in light, not too serious manner, flirting with them…. He didn’t create the distance between himself and his men and they loved him for that (and Luc was beginning to understand that).

He was also beginning to be aware of his own personal interest in Mikhail. His boss looked gorgeous in his fashionable clothes, and even better without them, though the most naked Luc saw him was when he wore trunks at the swim… _oh no, you’re not going that way_. One thing was to notice Mikhail’s appeal for a fact, completely different – to admit it works on himself as well. And Luc would lie if he said it didn’t apply in his case.

_Ok, so I’m feeling a little hot about my boss. Not so unimaginable thing. It happens. Shit, just don’t panic, act like nothing’s wrong and it’ll be all right._

Reaching that point didn’t help with the question what to do with it. Luc wasn’t even sure he wants to do _anything_. He hardly had any sexual experience at all, kissing and grouping some girls was all he did so far. And exactly, girls. He always thought himself straight. He couldn’t really imagine himself even kissing a man… But maybe… if Mikhail was that man…

The other thing concerning that total mess that Luc’s thoughts were, was the fact that Mikhail was often surrounded by women himself. And Luc didn’t see any of them refusing him. In most cases it even went with girls initiating things. Mikhail never refused either. But for all the stories, for the seemingly prevailing view among Mikhail’s men that their boss goes for both genders, Luc had never seen him with a man. Sure, Mikhail flirted with everyone around, Luc included but Luc never _saw_ him seriously making out with a guy.

So it was even harder to imagine himself on an eventual spot of Mikhail’s interest. And the basic thing, of course was, even if Luc was decided, would Mikhail even wanted him?

But no point of worrying for something that might never happen. Especially if that increases your hangover headache.

\- Is there something to drink? – asked Luc quietly, finishing his food. He spoke in steady enough voice that he was proud of himself after all that disturbing considerations.

Some guy passed him a bottle from which he was drinking. No glass. Luc shrugged, deciding hygiene loses in a duel with his thirst, and accepted it; greedily gulping down the content a moment later. He wiped his mouths with his hand.

\- So, where is Mikhail? – he asked in a most casual tone he could muster.

One blonde guy (not that it was any distinctive feature here – the vast majority of them were light haired) made a shock stricken face at him.

\- You ask us? Shouldn’t you know better?

Luc looked quizzically at him.

\- Weren’t you the one who spent a night with him?

\- Of course not! What are you talking about?!

\- Isn’t it obvious? – continued the blonde, keeping a straight face. Luc, too affected, didn’t notice the few barely held back smirks around. – Dude, we all know you’re his new boyfriend. You don’t have to hide-

\- Especially after Yuri’s dead, - put in the other one.

\- Exactly. Don’t worry, we not jealous-

\- Though few ladies might be, - interrupted him the second guy again.

\- -so you can share the details if you like. Go on, tell us, how was it?

Luc stared at him, totally at a loss for words, until people around him erupted in laughter. He felt himself getting red all over the face from being the object of the joke and from the embarrassment of how close to the mark they hit.

Luc saw Ivan smacking with a hand in the back of his head one of the initiators of the fun.

\- Idiots, you’re almost as bad as Misha.

\- Hey, look how our newbie is blushing! Maybe there is some truth in that, - called out Sergei.

There were some howls and whistles and more witty comments. Luc stared down at the table but refused to leave the room. He won’t escape and give them even more reason to-

\- Hey, don’t mind them.

He glanced to the side and there was Ivan sitting next to him.

\- It’s just harmless joking.

\- I know, - gritted Luc.

  

* * *

 

 

Irine slipped into Mikhail’s room, holding a glass of water and a pill of aspirin.

\- Will you never learn knocking? – asked the voice from the bed.

Irine looked that way, scanning the room briefly. He was alone. He laid on the bed, athwart, with feet on the floor.

\- I never knocked to your room. Why should I start now? It’s not like I can walk on you doing anything I haven’t seen you doing before.

\- True, - she heard a note of smile in his voice. That’s good.

\- Look what I brought you, - she stretched the glass and the medicine his way. – And yet you greet me so ungratefully.

He sat up and took the offered stuff.

\- Uh, you’re an amazing friend, you know that?

\- I do. You said it a couple of times.

She walked to the window, pulling the stores away and opening the window. There was a groan from the bed. She turned, seeing Misha trying vainly to cover himself from the sunlight with a raised palm.

\- Actually I take that back, - he said.

Irine rolled her eyes.

\- You brought this on yourself. You shouldn’t have drink that much alone.

She moved closer to the bed and sat down next to him.

\- I had you, - Misha said. – But you didn’t help me with that bottle much. Is this how best friend acts? You didn’t help me at all even, I think, - he looked at her suspiciously. – Who are you and what have you done with my Inka?

Irine looked at him with mock reproach.

\- Mikhail Arbatov, are you calling me a drunkard?

\- I wouldn’t dare. It would be inappropriate from many perspectives. First off, that word implies being drunk and I never saw you in that state as you always win the drinking contests with me. I’m always under the table before I got a chance to see it. I should probably check some monitoring records one day-

Irine grabbed a pillow and hit him with it. Misha made a great show of falling down on the bed with a yelp from the force of her light strike.

\- There goes all her kindness, - he complained to the ceiling. – The true nature will always came up in the end.

It was so good to hear him joke again, thought Irine, watching him with tenderness. Misha seemed to be back to his silly self again.

\- And the start was so promising. I got water and a pill. But we’re behind the gentle foreplay. Or, - he shot her a playful glance, - the pill was not what I think it was and your plan is to drug me and use sexually. In that case, you should just ask, I’m always at the service of beautiful ladies, - he reached his hand to her as if offering a dance. – If you please?

\- Have you no shame? – she answered but took his hand and laid down next to him anyway. – I’m almost married.

\- I still don’t get that, - he said, staring at the ceiling once more. - What do you see in him?

\- Well, let’s see. Where to begin with. He’s more of a gentleman than most of the rest of you brought together, he’s-

\- Okay, okay, stop. I didn’t ask seriously. I don’t want to listen to that list once more. But, Vanya’s boring, don’t say I didn’t warn you later.

\- You just think marriage is a synonym of boredom.

\- Actually, I think it a word from the previous century. How can you bind yourself to one person in our times if you can have everyone?

\- You’re impossible.

\- Oh, there we go. Lack of arguments, so you’ll start to attack my person directly.

\- Hell, I will.

\- And bad words to that. Childish.

\- You stink.

\- That was beyond childish.

\- I’m serious. Have you even took a shower yet? It’s two in the afternoon.

Mikhail rose himself up reluctantly.

\- It’s even worse than I feared. You won’t die from boredom with Vanya. You’re actually turning into him.

But he got up and went to the shower and Irine counted it a small victory. He was in a lot better state than she expected him to be. He could pretend of course - he was so good at it, even she, despite knowing him from childhood, had a problem with distinguishing when he was his true self and when he acted. But even if that was the case, it was a start.

Mikhail was a bundle of truth and lie, both mingled so close together that Irine didn’t know if it was possible to distinguish them at all. Maybe he himself couldn’t do that anymore. In many ways he was more honest than any rational person should be, and not only with himself, he spoke his thoughts aloud, not caring for others’ opinions. But he never really dealt with big problems completely; he just let them happen, not interfering until it was too late and then he pretended not to care from the beginning to make it easier to bear. He displayed to the world his careless happy mask for so long people started to believe in it and treat him accordingly. And that was his goal, so let him have that. But Irine knew better.

\- You still here? – Misha asked her, walking out of the smaller room, pulling on a new shirt. – Heavens, what a serious face. I’m starting to fear what more you have to say. Tell me you don’t call off your bachelorette party.

Irine frowned in confusion.

\- You wouldn’t be at my bachelorette party anyway. But, - she stopped him from answering, raising her hand. – I was wondering if we shouldn’t put off the wedding… when Yuri, you know…

Misha moved, seemingly casually, but he turned so that she didn’t see his face.

\- You want to wait till funeral? How long will it take them to find the body in Tokyo Bay? Or if they fail, you’d wait till he’s declared dead?

His voice sounded harsher than she was used to. Irine kept silent, not sure what to answer, not sure where he headed with it.

\- Terrible idea, - Misha said in a lighter tone, turning back to her. – There won’t be an end to the paper work. Do everything as you had planned. Life is too short to put off your plans because of the dead. It’s not like they care anyway, - he chuckled.

Irine opened her mouth to tell him to don’t joke from that but she stopped herself.

\- I’m serious, girl, - he went on. – Don’t let it get in your way. Yuri liked you, he wouldn’t want that.

Irine swallowed hard. And blinked. She was not going to cry. She was tough.

\- You know who shoot him? – she asked in a thin voice.

\- I know, - his fists clenched a bit but he forced them to relax. – Asami. Ivan told me.

\- So, - she needed to know it, a note of steel entered her own voice. – What are we going to do about it?

Misha looked at her closely.

\- Are you asking if there will be war with Japanese?

\- Will be?

\- No.

Irine didn’t know herself if she felt more relieved or irritated at his statement but then Misha continued.

\- At least not openly. Not now when Feilong’s men would be all agitated because of the casino deed. One enemy at the time. We can’t afford to fight with everyone around. And Asami’s men are far in Japan. Baishe is a closer danger, we have to focus on them for the time being.

\- That’s all? Are you going to let it go so easily?

\- I said no war, not no punishment at all. Heavy bloodshed is not always the best solution, contrary to what you’d have liked. Why are the men called the more aggressive gender? – he shook his head. - I really fail to see.

\- It’s to protect the family, - shot back Irine.

\- Via aggression, - pointed out Misha. – But we’d apply different methods this time. No open fight, we’d just sit quietly, pretending not to be after them, and watch. Observe every step Asami does so when he slips, we’d be ready to use it against him.

Irine listened, a smile appeared on her lips as he talked, and grew wider during it.

\- I like that, - she praised.

She wanted to say more but there was a commotion, including several voices and a claxon sounds, in the yard and Mikhail was drawn to the window. She went to watch too.

\- What’s- oh, he got his bike already! – she exclaimed upon seeing Lucas standing next to black Yamaha, practically swelling with pride; a few other guys gathered around. The young Macanese, black haired, in a hoodie, leaned onto the black motorcycle, made quite a striking view. – He looks badass, - she commented, glancing up at Misha.

His lips quirked.

\- He does. And the motor is awesome. I want a ride, - Misha turned and went to the door.

\- Of course it’s awesome, I was there when he bought it, - called Irine after him.

She would love to try it too to be honest but she knew Misha needed some respite now so she stayed behind. Maybe her friend would get some fine with Lucas to that, the boy was really cute and he looked at Misha with dreamy eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be some action here but I had no idea descriptions of emotional state of one boy would take so much place. And that has to be done before we move to more... physical aspects.  
> So action got moved to the next chapter. Some persons from the manga will appear again!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it was so long! I have nothing to justify it with.

\- Can you pull up here? – shouted Mikhail in his ear.

Luc did so, driving to the nearest parking place he spotted, feeling both relieved and disappointed. Mikhail’s hands on his waist was a rather nice sensation even though a little bit distracting during driving.

\- What is it? – he asked as Mikhail sat off the motorbike as soon as it stopped.

The Russian turned around as if looking for someone.

\- I thought I saw… there! – he called victoriously, his eyes stilling on some building’s door.

Luc looked that way but he was too late to see whomever might be there. He regarded the whole building.

\- Chinese art gallery? Seriously?

\- Let’s go in for a moment. I want to check something.

Luc got up as well, turning off the engine and locking the motorbike. He took his helmet and followed his boss reluctantly, regretting the ride was so short.

Once inside Mikhail bought them tickets and they began their walk through halls filled with endless items from Chinese culture, mostly pictures. Luc wasn’t very interested. Personally he thought there were better ways to spend the moneys in and if he was to stare at some image he’d prefer it in the cinema, moving and with some action to it.

He kept giving Mikhail sidelong glances, which, he hoped, were discreet enough. From what he gathered it didn’t seem his boss was much absorbed in the art surrounding them either. He stayed before a work here and there, pretending to admire it but he didn’t seem focused. Like something else, more important, was on his mind.

Luc longed to ask why they were there in the first place but he bit his tongue. He wouldn’t whine like a child, even without it men from his new dubious company called him boy. Mikhail had to notice something anyway.

\- You aren’t much into art, are you?

Luc shrugged wondering briefly if he should lie to appear more cultured but decided against it.

\- Not really my thing. Too…

\- Mind-numbing?

\- Exactly, - he couldn’t help a little smile.

\- But they’re exotic at least.

\- Not for someone who spend in Macau his entire life. For me, you guys are more unusual.

Mikhail chuckled.

\- You can take a picture, almost like souvenir straight from Russia. Me, especially. Did you know Misha means also ‘little bear’ in our language? And bears are rather famous fo- - Mikhail trailed off, looking somewhere past Luc’s shoulder.

Luc looked around to see Feilong there, standing with his back to them, not seeing them yet. The young Macanese needn’t see his face to recognize him – waist long hair and cheongsam were unmistakable for the triad’s leader.

His elegant form, clad in traditional Chinese clothes seemed like the part of the hall’s decoration, the finest piece of art there. Luc turned back to his boss but the blonde wasn’t looking at him any longer, he already started approaching Feilong. Luc felt sudden irritation at the other man, stealing all Mikhail’s attention for himself with just his presence alone.

 

* * *

 

 

\- Do you like it? – said husky voice from behind his shoulder.

Feilong whirled around, momentary regretting it as he saw the habitual smirk curling Mikhail’s mouth. He knew it was him as soon as he heard him, he should not have grant him with a single stare even; it was like giving him a small victory. _Again, after the action in Tokyo._ But it was too late now, turning back to the piece of art would be like admitting to a mistake so Fei Long just narrowed his eyes at the intruder instead and made the slightest gesture of dismissal toward his people around, ready to act and defend their leader.

Mikhail didn’t seem put off in the slightest, bubbling nonsense as usual.

 - Magnificent, isn’t it? – he said as if he knew anything of art, - I think this is my favorite picture here too. Do you come here often by the way? I’d love to contemplate this masterpiece in a company of someone educated in the subject. Wouldn’t you like to discuss it, say, once a week? A month perhaps? This chiaroscuro, the light and dark playing in the paint-

\- It’s ink, not paint, - corrected Fei Long automatically, glancing at the picture even as the Russian’s eyes were glued to him. Fei Long scoffed in his mind. The other man wasn’t even _looking_ at it, all that left his mouth was a lie like always. – What are doing here anyway? – he asked viciously.

\- I-

\- You didn’t come to ‘contemplate’ the art. The barbarian like you can’t even understand, not to mention appreciate properly, the thousand years’ tradition achievements. You were pasturing yacks in your primal tribes while we had developed high culture already.

\- The ability to appreciate the beauty isn’t connected with one’s origin. You’re wrong accusing me of the lack of proper taste, - for a split second the blonde sounded so contrite Fei Long almost regretted his harsh words but then the Russian added, - I did come here to admire a work of art though it may not be the pictures I’m after.

The lewd smile was back in place.

\- Have you no shame? – hissed Fei Long. – How dare you even show me your face after what you did?

\- I have no idea what you’re talking about, love, - Mikhail blinked innocently.

\- You very well have! The ship, the boy, my casino, - Fei Long couldn’t stop himself even though they started to attract unwanted attention.

\- Ah, this. Well, you can hardly blame me for taking the chance when it presented itself. I wanted the deed from quite some time and you, after refusing my next offers, almost gave it to Asami.

\- He stole it, - muttered Fei Long and mentally berating himself already. Why was he even explaining anything to the other man?

\- Indeed… And where is that rat who betrayed you?

Fei Long noticed how Yoh stiffened at the far corner as Mikhail’s eyes swept to him contemptuously.

\- Isn’t that him over there? Fei Long, you should really assign more trustful men for your guard. You were able to say who’s not loyal thanks to me. You should have get rid of them. Once a traitor, always a traitor.

\- That’s not your business. Keep your unwanted advices to yourself.

\- I’m only worried-

\- That’s enough. I didn’t come here for a lecture on trustworthiness from someone who stole from me.

Fei Long turned around without any other words and marched away without a backward glance. His men silently followed him.

 

* * *

 

 

Luc stood with his back to the wall, arms crossed and eyes glaring daggers at the scene unfolding before him.

As the Chinese moved out, he unglued himself from the concrete and hesitantly approached the lonely figure of his boss.

To his surprise, Mikhail didn’t look depressed, not even sad.

\- Lucas, - he said without looking at him, staring at the picture instead, but he reached out with one hand and placed it on Luc’s shoulder. – I might have another task for you.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the idea that was born out of a year long frustration of waiting for Finder continuation. Anyone interested in the continuation?


End file.
